AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 


*M& 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NBW  YORK    •    BOSTON  •    CHICAGO  •    DALLAS 
ATLANTA  •    SAN   FRANCISCO 

MACMILLAN  &   CO.,  Limited 

LONDON  •    BOMBAY  •   CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


AT  ONE 
WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Studies  in  Mvsticism 

(      OCT  14 1921 

EDITED  BY 

E.  HERSHEY  SNEATH,  Ph.D.,  LL.D. 

Professor  of  the  Philosophy  of  Religion  and  Religious 
Education,  Yale  University 


jQeto  gorfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

1921 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1921, 
By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 


Set  up  and  electrotyped.     Published,  January,  1921 


EDITOR'S  PREFACE 

This  book  is  the  outgrowth  of  a  seminar  in  Mysticism 
recently  conducted  by  the  writer  in  Yale  University.  There 
is,  as  Professor  James  suggests,  an  element  of  mysticism  in 
all  religion,  and  the  aim  of  the  seminar  was  to  study  its 
various  aspects  in  the  religious  experience  and  teachings  of 
those  in  whom  it  was  conspicuous.  All  of  the  contributors 
to  this  volume,  save  one,  took  part  in  the  seminar,  and  the 
writer  desires  to  acknowledge  again  their  kindness  in  render- 
ing such  valuable  service  and  in  permitting  further  use  of 
their  material  in  this  way.  It  seemed  advisable  that  a 
larger  audience  should  share  in  the  benefits  of  it  —  hence 
this  publication.  Besides  serving  as  an  introduction  to  the 
study  of  Mysticism,  the  papers  will  prove  especially  service- 
able to  students  of  the  Psychology  of  Religion. 

E.  Hershey  Sneath. 

Yale  University, 
June  26,  1920. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

The  Mysticism  of  the  Hebrew  Prophets  ...       i 

Frank  Chambering  Porter,  Ph.D.,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Bib- 
lical Theology,  Yale   University. 

Mysticism  in  India 37 

E.  Washburn  Hopkins,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  San- 
skrit and   Comparative  Philology,  Yale   University. 

The  Mysticism  of  Jesus 60 

George  Aaron7  Barton,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  Bib- 
lical Literature  and  Semitic  Languages,  Bryn  Mawr 
College. 

The  Mystical  Experience  of  St.  Paul     ...     81 

Benjamin  Wisner  Bacon,  D.D.,  Litt.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor 
of  New  Testament  Criticism  and  Interpretation,  Yale 
University. 

The  Mysticism  of  Augustine 133 

Williston  "Walker,  Ph.D.,  D.D.,  L.H.D.,  Professor  of 
Ecclesiastical  History  and  Provost  of  Yale  University. 

Mysticism  in  Isl^m 142 

Charles  Cutler  vTorrey,  Ph.D.,  D.D„  Professor  of  the 
Semitic  Languages,  Yale  University. 

v 

The  Mysticism  of  Dante 180 

Charles  Allen  Dinsmore,  D.D.,  Lecturer  on  the  Bible  as 
Literature,  Yale  University. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

The  Mysticism  of  Meister  Eckhart    .      .      .      .199 

Rufus  M.  Jones,  Litt.D.,  Professor  of  Philosophy,  Haver- 
ford  College. 

The  Mysticism  of  St.  Theresa 213 

George  Warren  Richards,  D.D.,  Professor  of  Church  His- 
tory, Theological  Seminary  of  the  Reformed  Church  in 
the  U.  S. 


The  Mysticism  of  George  Fox 240 

Rufus  M/Jon 
ford  College. 


Rufus  M.  Jones,  Litt.D.,  Professor  of  Philosophy,  Haver- 


The  Mysticism  of  Wordsworth 260 

E.  Hershey'Sneath,  Ph.D.,  LL.D.,  Professor  of  the  Phi- 
losophy of  Religion  and  Religious  Education,  Yale  Uni- 
versity. 


AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 


AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

THE  MYSTICISM  OF  THE  HEBREW 
PROPHETS 

Frank  Chamberlin  Porter 

The  Old  Testament  Prophets  have  been  understood  by 
Christian  people  generally  as  foretellers  of  Jesus  Christ  and 
of  various  details  of  his  earthly  life,  death  and  resurrection. 
This  use  and  understanding  of  them  has  caused  neglect  of 
their  message  for  their  own  age  and  people,  of  their  close 
relation  to  the  events  and  conditions  of  their  time,  and  of 
their  real  significance  as  discovering,  or  one  may  say,  creative, 
minds  in  the  history  of  the  religious  progress  and  achieve- 
ment of  mankind.  It  has  also  prevented  the  effort  to  under- 
stand the  inner  experiences  of  the  prophets;  since  if  the 
prophets  really  wrote  of  a  person  or  of  events  centuries  in 
the  future,  it  could  only  be  assumed  that  they  themselves 
did  not  know  the  real  meaning  of  their  writing,  but  were 
passive  human  instruments  through  whom  God  spoke  and 
wrote.  This  way  of  regarding  them  may,  no  doubt,  at 
first  seem  to  exalt  and  honor  them,  forbidding  their  classifi- 
cation with  other  men.  The  idea  that  we  can  understand 
the  human  nature  of  their  experience  is  excluded  by  the 
theory;  still  more  absolutely  forbidden  is  all  thought  of  our 
learning  from  their  example  the  real  nature  of  religion,  and 
following  them  in  their  inner  life  with  God.  In  this  sense 
we  are  not  and  cannot  be  prophets.  This  conception  of 
prophecy  was,  in  fact,  a  Christian  inheritance  from  Jewish 
and  more  especially  from  Hellenistic  Jewish  interpretations. 


2  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

The  theory  of  the  passiveness  of  the  prophets  as  the  voice 
or  the  pen  of  the  Spirit  of  God  was,  in  fact,  more  Greek 
than  Hebrew. 

Two  movements  of  thought  in  modern  times  have  changed 
all  this  and  made  such  an  understanding  of  the  prophets 
unnatural  to  us:  first,  the  historical  method  and  spirit  of 
research ;  and  then,  more  recently,  the  psychological  analysis 
of  religious  experience. 

Historical  science  has  changed  the  prophets  from  what 
Coleridge  called  "  Super-human  Ventriloquists  "  to  most  liv- 
ing personalities,  who  have  a  greatness  of  their  own,  and 
each  his  own  quality  of  greatness,  and  who  stand  almost 
highest  among  the  path-makers  in  the  history  of  the  religious 
and  ethical  advance  of  man.  It  has  had  this  effect  by 
concentrating  our  attention  first  upon  the  work  of  the 
prophets  in  and  for  their  own  times ;  and  yet  their  abiding 
significance  and  the  permanent  factors  in  their  teaching  have 
come  into  clearer  light  by  this  emphasis  on  their  relation  to 
these  long  past  situations  and  events. 

The  comparative  study  of  religions,  the  last  path  of  his- 
torical study  to  be  opened  up,  tends  still  further  to  lessen 
the  isolation  and  peculiarity  of  the  religion  of  Israel.  It  is 
true  that  the  prophets  remain  the  fact  most  without  parallel 
in  other  religions.  But  comparative  studies  have  tended 
toward  denying  uniqueness  where  it  seemed  greatest,  in 
ecstasy  and  vision  and  in  prediction,  and  bringing  uniqueness 
to  light  in  what  seems  to  us  natural,  the  ethical  interpreta- 
tion of  the  character  and  demands  of  God.  It  is  also  true 
that  the  significance  of  the  prophets  as  those  who  really 
opened  the  path  toward  Christ  and  Christianity  is  increased, 
not  lessened,  by  an  historical  interpretation  which  gives 
them  a  real  place  and  a  great  part  in  the  developing  life  of 
the  human  spirit.  We  now  see  that  the  prophets  actually 
achieved,  all  together,  yet  each  in  lines  of  his  own,  the 
truths  about  God  and  the  experiences  of  the  life  of  man 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS        3 

with  God  and  toward  man  which  were  brought  to  their 
unity  and  culmination  in  the  teachings  and  life  of  Christ. 
Historical  studies  have  thus  re-discovered  the  prophets,  re- 
leased them  from  the  obscurity  and  isolation  in  which  the 
old  theory  necessarily  held  them,  and  revealed  them  as  great 
struggling  and  achieving  human  beings. 

But  now  comes  a  new  method  of  scientific  study  that 
claims  its  rights  in  the  sphere  of  religion,  past  as  well  as 
present;  and  it  is  not  at  first  so  evident  that  this  also  will 
prove  a  gain,  rather  than  a  loss,  to  religious  faith  and  life. 
Psychology  undertakes  to  explain  the  nature  of  the  religious 
experiences  of  great  as  well  as  average  people ;  and  there  are 
many  who  fear  that  its  tendency  is  toward  reducing  the 
great  to  the  level  of  the  lowly,  if  not  reducing  religious 
experience  in  general  to  inward  processes  which  do  not 
require  the  assumption  of  the  reality  of  another  world  than 
the  natural,  or  another  person  than  the  human.  Our  pres- 
ent study  of  the  mysticism  of  the  prophets  must  take  its 
start  from  the  findings  of  history,  but  must  then  attempt  to 
understand  the  nature  of  their  inner  life  and  their  special 
experience  of  God  in  the  spirit  of  this  newer  science. 

Prophecy  in  Israel  is  of  three  kinds,  or  presents  three 
distinct  aspects,  which  are  also  three  successive  stages  of 
development,  though  there  is  over-lapping  and  some  move- 
ment back  and  forth  between  them. 

Prophets  first  meet  us  as  bands  of  dancing  dervishes,  in- 
ducing ecstatic  conditions  by  music  and  dancing,  and  creat- 
ing a  contagious  atmosphere  of  excitement,  which  draws  such 
outsiders  as  Saul  under  its  spell  (I  Sam.  10:5-13,  19:20- 
24).  Their  emotions  very  likely  found  expression  in  unin- 
telligible outcries  of  the  sort  that  Paul  describes  in  I  Corin- 
thians 12  and  14  as  "  speaking  with  tongues."  We  get  the 
impression  that  the  ecstatic  condition  itself  was  the  thing 
cultivated  and  valued.  The  revelation  was  the  fact  that 
men  could  thus  become  possessed  by  a  divine  spirit.     Their 


4  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

appearance  and  actions  were  evidence  of  the  reality  of  the 
unseen  world.     The  loud  cries  and  dances  and  knife-cuttings 
ascribed  in  I  Kings  18  to  the  prophets  of  Baal  are  of  the 
same  sort ;  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  "  nebiim  "  came 
into   Israel   from   the   Canaanitish   religion.     They  are  dis- 
tinguished from  the  seers,  whom  we  infer  unveiled  future  or 
hidden  things  through  a  magic  science  or  art,  by  the  use  of 
some  ritual,  by  the  observation  of  the  starry  heavens,  or  by 
some   other  means.     The   prophets   became   recognized   and 
honored  in  Israel,  but  all  sorts  of  magic  and  divination  were 
denounced  by  the  prophets  themselves  and  prohibited  by  the 
law.     They  were  no  doubt  thought  to  involve  the  recognition 
of  other  divine  powers  besides  Yahweh.     The  nebiim  seem 
never  to  have  used  physical  means,  but  to  have  depended 
upon  the  ecstatic  frenzy  which  they  cultivated,  and  to  have 
acted  and  spoken  as  impelled  by  this  sacred  madness.     Their 
utterances   did   not    remain    always   unintelligible.     Balaam 
is  a  type  of  the  prophet  whose  inspiration  is  of  the  ecstatic 
type    (Num.  24:2-4,    15),  a  heathen  prophet,  who  utters 
against  his  will  oracles  dictated  by  Israel's  God,  and  con- 
taining the  praises  of  Israel  and  promises  of  its  coming  great- 
ness.    He  is  a  passive  instrument  through  which  God  an- 
nounces his  great  historic  plan.     The  four  hundred  prophets 
who  advised  Ahab  to  engage  in  the  battle  in  which  he  fell 
(I  Kings  22),  and  the  prediction  by  Hananiah  of  an  early 
return  within  two  years  of  the  exiles  of  597  b.  c.  (Jeremiah 
28),  indicate  that  the  majority  of  the  prophets  were  patriots 
in  their  inspiration,  and  were  inclined  to  foretell  what  the 
king  and  the  people  desired.     Ahab's  prophets  were  really  in- 
spired by  Yahweh,  but  were  inspired  to  prophesy  falsely;  a 
secret  which  only  one  prophet,  Micaiah,  knew. 

He  was  an  early  forerunner  of  the  second  and  greatest 
class  of  Israel's  prophets,  whom  it  is  the  special  task  of  this 
discussion  to  understand.  Their  message  contradicted  the 
popular  desires,  and  was  opposed  by  the  great  majority  of 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS         5 

prophets,  as  well  as  by  the  priests  and  kings,  but  was  vindi- 
cated by  the  fall  of  the  Northern  Kingdom  in  722  b.  c,  and 
of  Judah  and  Jerusalem  in  586  b.  c.  Their  message  and  the 
nature  of  their  inspiration  stand  in  striking  contrast  to  those 
who  preceded  them;  but  we  shall  do  better  to  return  to  them 
after  looking  briefly  at  their  successors,  with  whom  their 
contrast  is  almost  as  striking. 

The  third  sort  of  prophecy  belongs  after  the  Exile  and 
comes  out  in  its  true  character  only  in  the  apocalypses;  but 
the  transition  to  them  is  made  through  Ezekiel,  Zechariah, 
Joel,  and  other  late  parts  of  the  prophetic  canon.  The  first 
apocalypse  in  the  full  sense,  and  the  only  one  in  the  canon, 
is  Daniel.  Others  follow  during  a  period  of  two  centuries 
or  more,  from  Daniel's  time,  that  of  the  persecution  of  the 
Jews  by  Antiochus  IV  (about  165  B.C.),  to  the  fall  of 
Jerusalem  (70  a.  d.)  and  the  final  end  of  the  Jewish  state 
(135  a.  d.).  Here  we  have  writers  who  are  writers  only, 
not  speakers  nor  actors,  not  at  all  in  the  public  eye,  their 
personalities  wholly  concealed  behind  the  assumed  names  of 
ancient  men  of  God.  This  third  stage  and  type  of  prophecy 
in  Israel  has  something  in  common  with  the  first;  for  the 
apocalyptists  also  value  and  cultivate  ecstatic  experiences, 
though  rather  as  a  condition  of  vision  than  as  a  physical 
excitement  which  has  its  value  in  itself.  Vision  is  the  uni- 
form method  in  which  apocalyptic  revelations  are  given. 
The  method  corresponds  to  the  contents,  for  the  apocalypse 
is  a  "  revelation  "  of  mysteries  of  the  unseen  world  and  of 
the  future.  The  language  in  which  such  themes  are  treated 
is  almost  of  necessity  that  of  mysterious  imagery.  The 
pseudepigraphic  form  is  usual  in  all  apocalyptic  writing. 

In  regard  to  the  nature  of  the  experiences  that  underlie 
such  writings  there  can  hardly  be  much  more  doubt  or  diffi- 
culty than  in  the  case  of  the  frenzied  ecstasies  of  the  earlier 
period.  We  have  no  need  to  assume  any  but  physiological 
and  psychic  causes  of  the  transports  of  the  early  prophets, 


6  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

whether  of  Baal  or  of  Yahweh.  Parallels  are  at  hand 
among  all  nations  and  in  all  ages,  even  down  to  the  present. 
Such  phenomena  are  to  us  so  far  from  being  proofs  of  the 
reality  of  God  and  spiritual  things,  that  they  sometimes 
tempt  one  to  wonder  whether  all  other  supposed  evidences 
of  contact  with  the  Other-than-ourselves  may  not  like  them 
be  self-induced  delusions.  The  apocalypses  certainly  do  not 
help  us  to  lay  such  ghosts  of  doubt.  Many  reasons  combine 
to  warn  us  that  the  visions  of  these  seers  are  not  real  sights 
of  the  unseen  universe,  nor  real  liftings  of  the  veil  that  hides 
the  future.  The  element  of  falsity  in  the  assumption  of 
the  character  of  a  great  man  of  the  past  puts  us  on  our 
guard;  and  the  character  and  varied  contents  of  the  visions 
themselves  make  the  assumption  of  their  objectivity  impos- 
sible. This  does  not  mean  that  the  earliest  bands  of  prophets 
were  not  often  really  beside  themselves,  nor  that  the 
apocalyptic  seers  may  not  sometimes  really  have  experienced 
the  trance  conditions  which  they  coveted  and  sought  to  in- 
duce by  fastings  and  by  mental  concentration  and  eager  ex- 
pectation. We  get  the  impression,  however,  that  vision  has 
become  a  literary  form  among  writers  of  this  sort,  and  it 
is  seldom  that  we  are  led  to  assume  that  the  vision  is  real 
in  this  psychological  sense.  Perhaps  the  most  convincing  in- 
stances are  such  as  Daniel  10:  1-9,  and  II  Esdras  5:  14-22, 
9:  23-28,  etc. 

In  part  corresponding  to  these  three  stages  and  kinds  of 
prophets  are  three  sorts  of  records  which  we  have  of  them. 
About  prophets  of  the  first  kind  we  have  only  popular  tradi- 
tions, stories  embodied  in  the  historical  books,  which  en- 
able us  to  understand  what  other  people  thought  about  the 
prophets  rather  than  what  the  prophets  thought  about  them- 
selves. The  tendency  in  these  stories  is  toward  an  exag- 
geration of  the  peculiarity  of  the  prophet  and  of  his 
miraculous  powers.  Even  so  strong  and  great  a  character  as 
Elijah  is  lowered  in  the  very  effort  of  story  to  exalt  him, 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS         7 

and  tends  to  become  a  mere  miracle-worker.  Fortunately 
the  memory  of  his  personality  restrains  this  effort  in  some 
measure;  yet  it  is  quite  impossible  to  unravel  the  strands  of 
the  narrative  and  recover  the  original  facts  of  his  prophetic 
experiences,  and  his  own  understanding  of  the  nature  of  his 
relations  with  God.  Of  course  the  ordinary  prophets  would 
have  shared  the  popular  view  of  their  calling,  and  some- 
times sincerely,  sometimes  in  pretense,  would  have  cultivated 
ecstatic  conditions  and  undertaken  miracle  and  prediction. 
The  records  we  have  give  the  distinct  impression  that  most 
of  them  were  physically  and  psychically  different  from  other 
men,  but  ethically  and  intellectually  quite  on  the  average 
level.  And  this  judgment,  as  we  shall  see,  is  confirmed 
by  the  criticism  passed  upon  them  by  the  great  prophets  who 
follow. 

These  great  prophets  are  often  called  writing  prophets, 
although  they  speak  first  and  only  write  afterwards,  or  are 
written  about  by  their  disciples.  We  cannot  accept  the 
books  that  now  bear  their  names  as  directly  the  work  of 
their  pens.  The  analysis  of  these  books  and  the  recovery 
of  the  original  oracles  of  these  men  is  so  difficult  that  the 
doubt  is  not  unnatural  whether  even  in  their  cases  we  can 
get  into  immediate  contact  with  their  minds.  But  the  re- 
sults of  historical  and  literary  study  are  most  reassuring. 
In  spite  of  differences  in  detail,  agreement  in  all  essentials 
has  been  reached,  and  the  personalities  of  Amos  and  Hosea, 
Isaiah  and  Jeremiah,  now  stand  out  with  wonderful  dis- 
tinctness and  impressiveness.  It  is  most  instructive  to  com- 
pare the  Isaiah  of  II  Kings  with  the  Isaiah  of  the  un- 
doubtedly original  oracles  contained  in  the  book  that  has  his 
name.  We  should  know  some  of  the  great  events  of  Isaiah's 
life  if  we  had  only  the  stories  of  Kings,  but  Isaiah  himself, 
all  that  was  most  characteristic  in  his  religious  experience 
and  faith,  and  that  which  he  contributed  to  the  spiritual 
progress  of  the  race,  would  be  wholly  unknown.     It  is  not 


8  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

always  the  writers  by  profession  whom  we  know  best.  We 
know  Isaiah,  although  his  book  is  composite  and  analysis 
is  difficult,  far  better  than  we  know  the  author  of  Isaiah 
40-66,  even  if  we  accept  these  chapters  as  a  unity  and  as 
directly  from  their  author's  hand.  We  know  Paul  so  well 
because  he  is  more  than  a  writer,  in  fact,  only  incidentally 
a  writer,  his  letters  being  part  of  his  missionary  activity. 
We  know  Jesus  himself  as  a  living  personality  far  better 
than  we  know  the  writer  of  Hebrews  or  even  the  author 
of  the  Johannine  literature,  although  we  have  Jesus'  words 
only  in  translation,  and  in  varying  forms  in  the  different 
gospels. 

The  prophets  of  the  third  sort  were  writers  only.  We 
have  their  books  on  the  whole  as  they  put  them  forth.  And 
yet,  there  is  almost  as  thick  a  veil  between  the  records  and 
the  facts  in  their  cases  as  in  those  of  the  first  order  of 
prophets  who  did  not  write  at  all,  but  were  written  about 
in  popular  legend.  We  need  almost  as  much  caution  in  the 
use  of  the  book  of  Enoch  or  the  apocalypses  of  Ezra  or 
Baruch  as  in  the  stories  of  Samuel  and  Kings  when  we  are 
seeking  the  actual  facts  of  prophetic  experience.  Vision 
has  become  for  the  writers  of  the  apocalypses  a  conven- 
tion, a  literary  device  shaped  in  form  and  determined  in  con- 
tents by  traditions,  written  or  oral.  It  happens,  therefore, 
not  by  accident  that  we  know  the  prophets  of  the  second 
kind  better  even  than  those  of  the  last  period.  They  stand 
out  distinctly  because  they  spoke  in  public  and  on  public 
matters,  because  they  were  great  actors  in  great  crises  of  the 
nation's  life,  because  their  words  even  when  written  have 
the  character  of  spoken  words,  the  immediateness  and  sin- 
cerity and  self-revealing  quality  which  words  artfully  put  to- 
gether in  the  study,  and  especially  words  written  in  an  as- 
sumed character  and  in  a  professional  spirit,  could  not 
have. 

Of  course  our  better  knowledge  of  the  prophets  of  the 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS        9 

second  kind  is  really  due  to  the  fact  that  they  were  far 
greater  men  than  those  who  preceded  and  those  who  fol- 
lowed them  in  Israel.  This  is  the  reason  why  they  occupy 
a  greater  place  in  the  history  of  their  nation  and  why  the 
account  of  their  religious  experiences  is  truer  to  fact  and 
fuller  in  meaning.  The  work  they  did,  the  purposes  they 
had,  the  truths  they  saw  and  spoke,  have  an  importance 
that  itself  guards  the  genuineness  of  the  utterance  and  of  its 
record.  It  is  no  mere  accident,  even  though  it  does  not 
always  happen,  that  we  have  in  these  cases  the  best  records 
of  the  greatest  men,  the  best  knowledge  of  the  experiences 
that  are  best  worth  knowing. 

It  is  already  evident  how  different  will  be  the  problems 
and  the  results  of  the  psychological  study  of  the  mystical 
experiences  of  prophets  of  these  three  kinds.  In  the  crude 
prophecy  of  Saul's  time  and  of  the  period  of  the  early  kings 
we  have  men  acting  in  ways  that  seem  to  others  super- 
human, and  no  doubt  meant  in  most  cases  to  themselves 
their  actual  possession  by  superhuman  spirits.  But  this  sort 
of  religious  frenzy  or  madness  gives  the  least  difficulty  to 
the  psychologist  and  is  most  easily  accounted  for.  It  is 
the  operation  of  factors  in  our  mental  and  emotional  experi- 
ence with  which  we  are  familiar,  abnormal  but  not  super- 
normal functionings  of  the  mind,  below  rather  than  above 
the  common  levels  of  human  experience.  In  these  cases 
to  explain  is  to  explain  away,  to  understand  is  to  be  free 
from  the  desire  and  therefore  to  lose  the  capacity  to  have 
such  experiences.  When  men  are  convinced  that  these  ex- 
periences are  manifestations  of  weaknesses  of  the  human, 
rather  than  powers  of  the  divine,  and  that  they  have  no 
validity  as  proof  of  the  reality  of  the  higher  realm  of  being, 
and  are  of  no  effect  in  opening  avenues  for  the  incoming  of 
higher  powers  into  human  life,  then  they  are  no  longer  ex- 
perienced. The  miracle  stories  that  are  told  in  these  early 
prophets  fall  away  of  themselves  when  science  removes  the 


io  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

mystery  and  disproves  the  magic  which  ignorant  hopes  and 
fears  created.  In  all  this  inevitable  and  welcome  process  of 
liberation  from  superstition  we  recognize  already  a  very  close 
relationship  between  the  question  of  cause  and  the  question 
of  value.  What  these  fanatics  did  and  said  in  their  frenzies, 
and  what  their  later  and  even  present  ignorant  imitators 
do  and  say,  is  without  value;  it  calls  forth  no  wonder  in  us 
and  reveals  nothing  about  the  nature  of  that  unseen  world 
toward  which  our  spirits  aspire,  to  know  and  to  experience 
which  is  the  aim  of  religion. 

But  the  third  type  of  prophecy  has  a  curious  likeness  to 
the  first  in  this  matter  of  value  and  truth.  The  apocalyptic 
writers  uniformly  claim  to  tell  of  things  beyond  human 
sight,  things  seen  and  heard  and  imparted  only  by  the  excep- 
tional seer  to  whom  such  transports  are  granted.  The 
modern  student  does  not  question  first  the  genuineness  of 
the  transports,  but  first  the  truth  and  value  of  the  things 
seen  and  heard.  The  value  is,  no  doubt,  greater  than  that 
of  the  physical  excitement  of  early  bands  of  raving  dervishes, 
but  it  is  not  so  great  as  it  claims  to  be.  What  these  visions 
actually  contain  is  not  information  of  a  sort  that  convinces 
us,  or  that  is  difficult  to  account  for  as  a  wholly  human 
product.  The  imagery  used  in  descriptions  of  heaven,  the 
throne  of  God,  angels,  the  coming  day  of  the  Lord,  the  end 
cf  the  world,  and  the  world  to  come,  we  can  in  part  trace 
to  its  sources  in  ancient  literature,  in  primitive  myth,  in 
natural  phenomena,  especially  those  of  the  visible  heavens, 
in  catastrophies  and  disasters,  wars  and  exiles,  the  doings  of 
cruel  and  ambitious  tyrants,  and  the  shiftings  of  world-em- 
pire. Some  great  ideas,  especially  such  as  may  deserve  to  be 
called  a  philosophy  of  history,  or  rather,  the  doctrine  of  an 
all-determining  plan  of  God,  we  may  find  in  these  books, 
and  some  worthy  discussions  of  the  great  problems  of  sin  and 
evil ;  but  of  an  actual  seeing  of  realms  and  beings  beyond 
our  sense  we  find  nothing,  nor  any  justification  of  the  claim 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS       u 

to  cast  a  ray  of  light  into  the  darkness  of  the  future.  And 
by  this  lack  of  value  in  the  contents  of  such  prophecy  our  im- 
pression is  confirmed  that  the  experiences  by  which  it  comes 
are  not  other  than  human. 

What  now  of  the  prophets  of  the  second  period,  and 
especially  what  can  we  know  as  to  the  nature  of  their  mysti- 
cal experiences?  In  their  cases  also  we  must  necessarily 
judge  of  the  experience  by  its  results,  of  the  inspiration  by 
the  things  revealed  and  achieved.  Let  us  then  ask  two  ques- 
tions in  regard  to  these  great  men.  First,  what  do  we  find 
their  real  message  to  be?  what  truth  from  God  do  they  de- 
clare? what  work  of  God  do  they  accomplish?  The  answer 
to  such  questions  will  be  fundamental  in  our  decision  as  to 
the  nature  of  their  experience.  And  in  the  second  place, 
what  do  the  prophets  themselves  say  of  their  experiences  or 
reveal  indirectly  concerning  them? 

The  very  fact  that  these  prophets  put  their  spoken  oracles 
into  writing  indicates  that  they  put  emphasis  upon  the  con- 
tents of  their  preaching  and  not  chiefly  on  the  mysterious- 
ness  of  its  form.  These  are,  above  all  things,  prophets  who 
have  something  to  say,  and  something  to  accomplish  by 
what  they  say;  and  we  shall  understand  their  mental  life 
best  if  we  understand  the  meaning  and  purpose  of  their 
mission.  Tolstoy  gives  a  striking  definition  of  the  char- 
acteristics of  prophecy  when  he  writes  that,  "  First,  it  runs 
counter  to  the  general  disposition  of  the  people  among  whom 
it  makes  itself  heard;  secondly,  those  who  hear  it  feel  its 
truth,  they  know  not  why;  thirdly,  and  chiefly,  it  moves 
men  to  the  realization  of  what  it  foretells."  These  char- 
acteristics do,  in  fact,  describe  the  prophets  before  us  ac- 
curately. Their  message  was  new,  in  the  sense  that  it  was 
against  current  opinion  and  practice  in  matters  of  religion. 
Yet  it  was  convincing  because  it  made  its  appeal  to  some- 
thing deeper  in  men's  consciousness  than  the  popular  and 
superficial  currents  of  thought  and  conduct,  and  even  to  some- 


12  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

thing  older  and  more  fundamental  in  the  religious  traditions 
of  Israel.  And  their  words  had  effect,  not  only  in  demon- 
strating, but  in  bringing  to  realization,  that  which  they  de- 
clared to  be  the  will  and  purpose  of  God. 

The  teaching  of  these  prophets  is  closely  bound  up  with 
the  critical  and  stirring  events  of  the  period  between  760 
and  586  B.  c,  the  period  of  the  aggressions  of  the  Assyrian 
empire  and  of  its  decline  and  fall,  and  the  succession  of 
Babylon  to  dominance  over  the  world.  Put  in  concrete  form 
what  the  prophets  of  this  period  had  to  say  was  first,  that 
a  crisis  was  at  hand  which  would  prove  to  be  disaster  and 
destruction  to  Israel  itself,  and  that  at  the  hand  of  Israel's 
own  God.  The  Day  of  Yahweh  was  at  hand  and  would 
prove  to  be  not  the  day  of  Israel's  success  and  power,  but 
of  its  overthrow,  a  day,  not  of  light,  but  of  darkness,  not 
of  escape  from  danger,  but  of  the  coming  of  greater  and  un- 
escapable  dangers  (Amos  5:  18-20).  In  the  second  place, 
the  popular  religion,  as  it  was  practiced  at  the  various  shrines 
throughout  the  land  and  as  it  was  ordered  and  conducted 
by  the  priesthood,  was  declared  by  the  prophets  to  be 
idolatrous  and  heathenish,  not  commanded  by  Yahweh  but 
displeasing  to  him,  a  contradiction  of  that  sole  worship 
which  he  demanded  of  his  people.  In  place  of  this,  the 
religion  which  Yahweh  required  was,  in  Micah's  great 
phrases,  only  "  to  do  justly,  and  to  love  kindness,  and  to 
walk  humbly  with  thy  God."  In  the  third  place,  politics 
and  war  were  not  the  means  by  which  Israel  was  to  further 
its  fortunes,  to  escape  evil,  or  to  fulfill  its  calling  as  the 
people  of  Yahweh.  The  kingdom  itself  seems  to  have  been 
regarded,  certainly  by  Hosea,  as  apostasy  from  God.  Isaiah 
opposes  the  alliance  with  Egypt,  which  was  the  nation's 
best  hope  of  resistance  against  Assyria,  and  demands  a  wait- 
ing upon  God  in  humility  and  trust,  and  a  sense  that  he 
only  is  to  be  feared,  and  that  the  nation's  security  rests 
solely  on  its  attitude  toward  him. 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS       13 

Behind  these  concrete  and  definite  declarations  were  cer- 
tain underlying  principles:  above  all,  that  Yahweh  is 
righteous  and  that  this  righteous  God  orders  the  history 
of  the  world  in  accordance  with  his  will,  not  only  inter- 
preting events  as  they  happen,  but  himself  determining  events 
in  accordance  with  righteousness  and  for  its  ends.  Matthew 
Arnold  rightly  interprets  the  spirit  of  prophecy  when  he 
makes  the  central  message  of  the  Old  Testament  the  faith 
that  the  power  not  ourselves  makes  for  righteousness,  and 
that  to  righteousness  belongs  blessedness.  To  this  it  should 
be  added  that  the  righteousness  of  God  now  required  him 
to  intervene  in  the  course  of  history;  that  this  intervention 
must  be  against  and  not  for  his  own  people,  Israel ;  and  that 
this  something  which  God  is  about  to  do,  this  strange  and 
incredible  turning  of  his  wrath  from  Israel's  enemies  against 
Israel  itself,  is  known  to  his  prophets,  though  it  should  be 
known  to  all  men  by  the  course  of  events  and  by  the  ill  desert 
and  chiding  conscience  of  the  people.  Another  underlying 
principle  of  the  prophets'  teaching  is  involved  in  this.  The 
God  of  righteousness  is  the  God  of  all  nations,  the  orderer 
of  human  history;  and  this  means  in  effect  that  there  is 
no  other  God.  An  implicit  even  though  not  at  first  unmis- 
takably expressed  monotheism  underlies  the  religion  of  the 
prophets.  Indeed,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  we  owe 
our  monotheistic  faith  to  them.  That  the  one  God  in  whom 
we  believe  is  an  ethical  personality,  is  Israel's  great  gift  to 
the  world,  and  the  prophets'  great  and  at  first  most  unwel- 
come gift  to  Israel.  One  other  fundamental  principle  of 
prophecy  is  the  blending  of  morals  and  religion,  the  sub- 
stitution of  righteousness  and  judgment,  the  knowledge  of 
God  and  kindness,  humility  and  faith,  inwardness  and  the 
communion  of  the  soul  with  God,  for  sacrifices  and  festivals. 
This  is  another  way  of  putting  that  achievement  of  prophecy 
for  which  the  debt  of  the  world  to  the  prophets  is  great 
beyond  reckoning. 


i4  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

In  all  this  nothing  has  been  said  of  a  prediction  by  these 
prophets  of  a  Messianic  future  for  Israel,  or  of  a  happy 
consummation  of  the  history  of  the  world.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  that  which  these  prophets  are  at  one  in  foretelling  is 
judgment,  not  deliverance.  That  good  must  prevail  in  the 
end  is  of  course  involved  in  their  belief  that  Yahweh  is 
the  God  of  righteousness,  and  that  he  is  the  God  of  human 
history.  But  the  hopes  that  Israel  had  set  on  his  coming 
intervention,  hopes  of  national  greatness  and  even  primacy 
among  the  nations  of  the  world,  were  denied,  not  affirmed, 
by  these  prophets,  who  were  therefore,  in  this  sense  critics, 
not  creators,  of  the  Messianic  hope.  Of  this  something 
more  will  be  said  later  on. 

From  the  summary  we  have  thus  far  made  it  will  not 
seem  strange  that  different  definitions  have  been  possible 
of  what  constitutes  the  most  distinctive  message  of  the 
prophets.  Some  still  say  prediction,  but  the  prediction  of 
disaster.  Some  say  that  a  belief  in  an  all  inclusive  plan  of 
God  and  in  his  revelation  of  this  to  the  prophets,  God's  fore- 
telling through  them  of  the  things  which  he  is  about  to  do, 
constitutes  their  distinctive  teaching.  Again  it  is  possible  to 
say  that  the  righteousness  of  Yahweh  is  their  characteristic 
doctrine,  upon  which  everything  turns;  and  that  this  moral 
conception  of  the  character  of  God  explains  their  criticism 
of  national  and  ceremonial  religion  alike,  and  involves  as 
its  inevitable  outcome  that  peculiar  type  of  ethical  monothe- 
ism which  it  is  Israel's  glory  to  have  achieved.  After  all, 
these  various  definitions  are  not  inconsistent.  The  important 
thing  for  our  present  purpose  is  to  have  it  clearly  in  mind 
that  ethical  and  spiritual  religion  was  the  concern  of  these 
prophets,  and  that  to  this  all  details  as  to  the  manner  of 
their  inspiration  and  everything  external,  whether  in  their 
experience  or  in  their  forecasts,  were  subjected. 

It  must  already  be  evident  that  the  sort  of  truth  which 
a  prophet  has  to  impart  will  necessarily  affect  the  manner 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS       15 

in  which  he  receives  it  and  in  which  he  expresses  it.  We 
should  not  expect  vision  to  have  an  important  place  in  con- 
veying the  conviction  that  Yahweh  is  righteous  and  that  he 
demands  righteousness  of  men.  These  are  not  things  that 
can  be  seen  with  the  eye.  God  himself  is  the  fact  that  the 
prophets  know,  and  they  know  him  not  as  a  thing,  but  as 
a  person,  so  that  the  question  as  to  the  nature  of  their  in- 
spiration becomes  a  question  of  the  sort  of  experience  by 
which  men  become  assured  of  the  reality  of  this  divine  moral 
personality  and  have  a  vivid  sense  of  his  glory  and  power 
and  a  deep  enthusiasm  and  courageous  loyalty  toward  him. 
It  has  been  said  that  the  poetic  monologues  of  Jeremiah 
are  the  highest  point  in  the  development  of  prophecy,  its 
11  most  exalted  literary  creation."  But  the  monologues  of 
Jeremiah  reveal  a  great  personality  in  intimate  conversation 
with  the  supreme  personality;  and  their  effect  is  to  help  us 
to  know  God  through  our  knowing  the  prophet  himself.  In 
fact  the  best  final  summary  of  the  message  of  the  prophets 
would  be  to  say  that  they  are  themselves  their  message. 
They  are  great,  distinctive,  living  persons,  in  whose  spirit, 
even  more  than  in  their  words,  we  see  and  feel  the  presence 
of  God. 

Let  us  turn,  now,  from  the  message  of  the  prophets  to 
their  own  account  of  their  prophetic  experiences.  They  are 
still  prophets,  nebiim,  and  no  one  thinks  of  calling  them  by 
any  other  name,  in  spite  of  the  difference  that  separates 
them  from  others  before  and  about  and  after  them.  There 
is,  indeed,  in  their  accounts  of  their  call  and  of  other  crises 
in  their  lives,  and  sometimes  in  their  manner  and  actions, 
enough  that  reminds  us  of  the  prophets  of  popular  story 
and  of  the  later  apocalyptic  seers.  So  that  there  are  two 
quite  different  ways  in  which  modern  writers  characterize 
them,  some  emphasizing  their  likeness  to  others  of  their 
order,  and  some  setting  them  apart,  as  ethical  teachers  and 


16  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

the  founders  of  spiritual  religion.  It  would  be  a  mistake 
to  suppose  that  they  are  not  men  of  their  times,  and  that 
they  anticipate  modern  science  in  its  interpretation  of  trance 
and  vision,  and  in  its  rationalizing  of  man's  experience 
of  the  Divine.  Nevertheless  it  is  evident  that  these  men 
were  fully  conscious  of  the  contrast  between  them  and  other 
prophets.  Amos  refuses  to  class  himself  with  the  profes- 
sional prophets  of  his  time,  although  he  has  no  other  word 
to  substitute  when  he  describes  his  own  office  and  function 
(7:14-15,  3:8).  The  difference  is  evident  enough,  both 
as  to  their  message  and  as  to  the  nature  of  their  experience. 
The  popular  prophets  preach  peace  and  prosperity  for  their 
nation,  while  these  prophets  announce  woes.  The  ethical 
condition  upon  which  alone  the  great  prophets  rest  their  hope 
of  good  was  lacking  in  the  case  of  the  others;  and  with 
this  difference  belongs  naturally  the  consequence  that  while 
ecstasy,  vision,  and  miracle  are  primary  marks  of  the  profes- 
sional prophet,  these  are  altogether  in  the  background,  and 
in  some  cases  entirely  lacking,  in  the  case  of  the  men  we  are 
considering. 

Let  us  see,  briefly,  how  this  is  in  the  case  of  the  individual 
prophets  of  this  higher  order.  Amos  says  nothing  about  his 
calling  except  that  God  took  him  from  his  flock  and  said 
to  him,  "  Go,  prophesy  unto  my  people  Israel."  The  visions 
narrated  in  chapters  7  and  8  do  not  suggest  trance  or  any- 
thing abnormal,  but  are  interpretations,  as  if  in  parable,  of 
things  actually  happening  before  the  prophet's  eye.  A  plague 
of  locusts,  a  drought,  a  builder's  plumbline,  a  basket  of 
summer  fruit,  are  enough  as  points  of  contact  for  the 
prophet's  thought  and  for  its  effective  utterance.  The  ap- 
peal of  Amos  throughout  is  to  the  common  conscience  of 
man;  and  in  one  striking  though  difficult  passage  he  seems 
to  say  that  when  conditions  and  events  are  what  they  then 
were,  every  one  ought  to  hear  the  word  of  Yahweh  and  to 
prophesy   (3:8).     That  which  seems  most  extraordinary  in 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS       17 

the  message  of  Amos  is  his  confident  announcement  that  it 
is  Yahweh's  purpose  to  bring  a  destructive  and  final  judg- 
ment upon  his  own  people.  Such  a  possibility  had  never 
been  imagined  before;  and  the  incalculable  importance  of  the 
prophet's  foresight  of  the  coming  fall  of  the  nation,  and 
his  interpretation  of  it  as  Yahweh's  own  deed,  for  the  whole 
future  development  of  religion,  makes  even  the  most  modern 
and  scientific  student  of  the  prophets  wonder  whether  some- 
thing more  than  observation  and  inference  lies  behind  it. 
Amos  gives  us  no  help  in  answering  the  question  whence 
this  assurance  came  to  him.  We  can  see  that  it  was  in  part 
a  statesman's  insight  into  the  inevitable  results  of  Assyria's 
encroachments  and  of  the  resistance  of  small  nations.  We 
can  see,  also,  that  the  prophet's  soul  was  filled  with  indigna- 
tion at  the  religious  practices  and  ideas  of  the  people,  and 
at  their  contradiction  in  conduct  of  everything  that  was  de- 
manded by  the  righteousness  of  God.  Whether  the  unshaken 
certainty  that  disaster  was  at  hand  came  upon  him  as  a 
mysterious  foreboding  or  presentment  in  some  sudden 
moment  of  intense  emotional  experience,  or  grew  more 
gradually  within  him,  we  have  no  means  of  deciding.  What 
we  know  is  that  in  inseparable  connection  with  his  convic- 
tion that  the  Day  of  Yahweh  would  be  a  day  of  darkness 
to  Israel  stand  his  two  great  denials  of  the  religious  faith 
of  his  people:  his  denial  that  sacrifice  and  festival  are  pleas- 
ing to  God,  and  his  denial  that  Yahweh  cares  for  Israel 
more  than  for  Israel's  enemies,  or  will  deal  with  them  on 
any  different  terms  (5:21-25,  9:7).  Here,  then,  is  one 
of  the  greatest  of  the  prophets,  the  first  to  take  the  most 
radical  positions  in  reversal  of  the  popular  religion,  whose 
experiences  involve  nothing  mystical  in  the  sense  that  ecstatic 
or  visionary  crises  have  a  place  in  them,  and  who  impresses 
one  much  more  as  a  man  whose  ethical  and  rational  judg- 
ments are  expressions  of  his  own  nature,  and  are  to  him 
only  what  every  man  should  recognize  for  himself  as  true. 


18  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

The  professional  prophets  were  claiming  supernatural  gifts, 
but  Amos  makes  his  appeal  to  common  sense,  to  reason,  to 
conscience,  and  in  and  with  these  to  the  character  of  Yahweh, 
as  all  his  people  ought  to  know  it. 

Hosea,  the  younger  contemporary  of  Amos,  is  like  him  in 
his  message,  though  as  different  from  him  in  his  nature  as 
two  men  could  well  be.  Behind  the  obscure  allusions  of 
his  first  chapters  we  seem  to  have  an  account  of  Hosea's  call 
to  be  a  prophet  and  of  the  source  of  what  was  new  in  his 
message.  If  we  can  truly  recover  his  experience  it  would 
seem  that  vision  had  even  less  place  in  it  than  in  that  of 
Amos,  perhaps,  indeed,  no  place  at  all,  and  that  it  was  in 
a  thoroughly  human  experience  that  he  learned  that  love 
in  God  as  in  man  can  persist  in  spite  of  unworthiness,  and 
will  prove  itself,  even  though  severe  in  discipline,  in  the 
end  redeeming  in  its  effect.  To  Hosea  Yahweh's  purpose 
to  destroy  Israel  is  not  the  denial  but  the  expression  of  his 
love,  and  is  meant  to  result,  and  must  in  the  end  result, 
in  the  recovery  of  the  nation  to  worthiness  and  fidelity  in 
a  new  marriage  covenant  with  him.  Here  everything  lies 
in  the  region  of  the  human,  and  God  is  discovered  and  under- 
stood in  the  light  of  what  is  deepest  and  highest  in  human 
nature.  Passion  does  belong  to  Hosea  in  abundant  measure. 
Indeed,  without  passion  no  one  would  be  called  a  prophet. 
But  of  exceptional  sights  and  hearings  we  read  nothing. 
The  prophet  seems  to  be  always  himself;  and  when  most 
himself,  nearest  to  God.  This,  of  course,  means  that  the 
word  of  Yahweh  to  Hosea  in  regard  to  his  marriage  ( 1 : 2, 
3 :  i ) ,  is  the  prophet's  later  interpretation  of  his  painful  and 
yet  revealing  experiences  as  being  from  the  first  the  purpose 
of  God.  This  is  far  more  likely  than  that  the  prophet  in 
an  ecstatic  condition  actually  heard  these  strange  and  cruel 
demands. 

The  case  of  Isaiah  is  different.  His  account  of  his  call, 
in  chapter  6,  is  beyond  doubt  an  account  of  a  real  vision 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS       19 

experience,  and  it  is  very  much  to  our  present  purpose  to 
understand  its  nature.  The  prophet  was  no  doubt  in  the 
temple  when  he  saw  the  Lord  sitting  upon  a  throne,  high 
and  lifted  up.  In  the  details  of  the  vision  which  follow  one 
recognizes  in  the  background  the  phenomena  of  storm,  but 
also  the  influence  of  imagery  derived  from  some  ancient 
mythological  tradition.  The  seraphim  may  have  been  per- 
sonifications of  lightning,  though  hardly  so  in  Isaiah's 
thought.  They  are  here  for  the  sake  of  what  they  say, 
"Holy,  holy,  holy,  is  Yahweh  of  Hosts:  the  whole  earth 
is  full  of  his  glory  " ;  and  for  what  they  do,  since  it  is  one 
of  them  who  touches  the  prophet's  lips  with  a  coal  from 
the  altar  and  takes  away  his  iniquity.  The  vision  is  re- 
markable for  its  contents  of  thought  and  feeling,  rather 
than  for  its  outward  details.  It  is  a  vision  of  the  holiness 
of  God.  Holiness,  especially  in  connection  with  the  temple 
and  its  cultus,  meant  to  the  people  not  sinlessness,  but  un- 
approachableness,  transcendence,  or,  one  might  say,  divinity, 
in  contrast  to  everything  human  and  earthly.  Isaiah  seems 
to  have  been  the  first  clearly  to  realize  that  the  holiness  of 
God  meant  not  merely  his  contrast  to  man's  weakness  and 
mortality,  but  especially  his  separateness  from  man's  sin ; 
for  it  is  unclean  lips  of  which  the  prophet  is  immediately 
conscious,  wrong  thoughts  and  words,  and  that  not  only  in 
Israel,  but  in  himself.  He  is  the  first  prophet  whose  call 
comes  with  the  consciousness  of  his  own  sin  and  the  experi- 
ence of  forgiveness.  The  right  response  of  man  to  the  holi- 
ness of  God  is  humility.  "  Woe  is  me!  for  I  am  undone." 
Amos  says  in  effect,  "  Ye  shall  be  righteous,  for  Yahweh 
is  righteous";  Hosea,  "  Ye  shall  be  loving,  for  Yahweh  is 
loving."  Isaiah  does  not  make  Yahweh  say,  "  Ye  shall  be 
holy,  for  I  am  holy";  and  when  this  is  finally  said  (Lev. 
19:2)  it  does  not  mean  the  imitation  of  God.  Holiness 
was  never  the  quality  in  God  which  man  could  imitate, 
but  precisely  that  which  distinguished  God  from  man.     So 


2o  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

even  although  Isaiah  sees  that  the  holiness  of  God  is  a 
spiritual  rather  than  a  physical  transcendence,  it  still  means 
transcendence  and  not  likeness  to  man.  To  the  holiness  of 
God  man's  natural  response  is  fear.  So  it  was  at  first  with 
Isaiah.  But  what  followed  was  the  truly  epoch-making 
discovery  that  the  holiness  of  God  is  itself  purifying  and  re- 
demptive, not  destructive,  toward  the  man  who  responds 
to  it  with  humility  and  the  confession  of  sin.  It  is  one  of 
the  seraphim  who  voiced  the  holiness  of  God,  that  touches 
the  prophet's  lips;  and  it  is  the  fire  itself,  emblem  of  the 
holiness  of  God,  which  purges  his  sin.  Then  follows, — 
not  as  a  hard  duty,  but  as  an  eager,  grateful  response  to  the 
voice,  "Whom  shall  I  send?" —  obedience.  "  Here  am  I; 
send  me."  The  order  of  this  religious  experience  is  not  that 
of  later  Jewish  legalism ;  it  is  exactly  that  of  the  Christianity 
of  Paul.  We  have,  then,  here  a  vision  which  seems  beyond 
doubt  to  have  come  in  a  highly  wrought  crisis  of  emo- 
tional experience,  and  may  well  have  involved  the  actual 
loss  of  the  consciousness  of  what  stood  before  the  physical 
senses,  but  of  which  the  significance  lies  not  at  all  in  its 
objectivity  as  vision,  but  in  the  most  inward  and  exalted 
regions  of  the  spiritual  life.  From  this  time  on  Isaiah  is 
wholly  dominated  by  the  sense  of  God,  the  certainty  that 
the  holy  and  spiritual  One,  unseen  by  the  eye,  his  presence 
unfelt  because  of  the  dullness  of  men's  minds,  is  the  only 
reality  with  which  man  has  to  reckon,  the  only  one  to  be 
feared,  the  only  one  to  be  trusted.  Another  word,  not  used 
in  the  account  of  the  vision,  but  involved  in  it,  expresses 
the  essential  nature  of  Isaiah's  religion,  the  word  "  faith  " 
(7:9,  28:  16).  The  pride  that  belongs  to  men  who  have 
no  sense  of  God,  the  self-trust  and  confidence  in  the  human 
and  the  material  that  belongs  to  this  dullness  and  insen- 
sibility, are  the  sins  that  are  to  bring  disaster  upon  Israel; 
and  these  disasters  which  humble  man  will  only  exalt 
Yahweh  and  manifest  his  holiness. 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS      21 

It  is  no  doubt  quite  natural  that  a  prophet  who  has  this 
conception  of  God  and  this  experience  of  religion  should 
have  psychic  experiences  of  an  unusual  kind.  Both  Amos 
and  Hosea  derive  their  conception  of  God  from  their  own 
human  character  and  experience.  Their  conception  of  God 
is  ethical  and  personal.  No  vision  need  disclose  these  quali- 
ties. The  man  who  has  them  by  nature,  or  who  gains  them 
through  experience,  needs  only  to  look  inward,  to  under- 
stand himself,  in  order  to  know  God.  Isaiah  accepts  the 
ethical  God  of  Amos  and  Hosea.  "  Yahweh  of  Hosts  is 
exalted  in  judgment,  and  God  the  Holy  One  is  sanctified 
in  righteousness"  (5:  16).  But  it  is  God's  exaltation,  his 
holiness,  his  contrast  to  man,  that  dominates  Isaiah's  re- 
ligion. He  may  almost  be  said  to  have  rescued  from  the 
temple  cultus,  which  Amos  and  Hosea  denounced,  the 
spiritual  truth  which  underlay  it;  yet  his  denunciation  of 
ritual  religion  as  the  people  practiced  it  was  quite  as 
vehement  and  absolute  as  theirs  (1 :  10-17). 

There  are  some  other  evidences  that  Isaiah  was  a  prophet 
of  the  ecstatic  type,  very  much  in  the  same  sense  in  which 
that  can  be  said  of  the  apostle  Paul.  He  is  compelled  by  a 
pressure  which  he  cannot  resist  to  take  a  position  in  national 
crises  contrary  to  that  which  others  took,  and  which  events 
seemed  to  demand.  "  Yahweh  spake  thus  to  me,  with  a 
strong  hand,  and  instructed  me  that  I  should  not  walk  in 
the  way  of  this  people,  saying,  Say  ye  not,  A  conspiracy, 
concerning  all  whereof  this  people  shall  say,  A  conspiracy; 
neither  fear  ye  their  fear  nor  be  in  dread.  Yahweh  of  Hosts 
...  let  him  be  your  fear,  and  let  him  be  your  dread  "  (8: 
11-13).  It  may  not  be  necessary  to  assume  actual  trance  in 
order  to  account  for  this,  yet  there  is  certainly  here  de- 
scribed an  experience  of  supernatural  power  to  which  the 
prophet  submits  in  spite  of  himself.  The  hand  of  Yahweh 
did  not  rob  him  of  consciousness,  but  did  take  away  his 
freedom.     A  strange  passage,  28:9-13,  seems  to  mean  that 


22  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Isaiah  was  taunted  by  his  opponents  as  one  who  utters  sense- 
less baby-talk.  His  answer  is  the  threat  that  they  wTill  soon 
hear  words  that  they  cannot  understand,  namely  the  words 
of  the  Assyrian  invader.  We  may  well  suppose  that  as 
Paul  declared  that  he  spoke  with  tongues  more  than  they  all, 
so  Isaiah's  intense  emotions  may  sometimes  have  led  him  to 
unintelligible  utterances;  although  it  is  as  true  of  him  as 
of  Paul  that  reason  and  conscience  dominated  and  almost 
always  made  emotion  their  powerful  servant.  This  im- 
pression is  strengthened  by  such  strange  actions  as  are 
ascribed  to  him  in  chapter  20.  That  which  Isaiah  saw  in  his 
vision  he  wished  all  men  to  see  and  believed  that  all  men 
should  see.  The  dullness  of  men  to  the  reality  of  God  was 
their  sin,  and  the  safety  and  strength  that  belonged  to  quiet- 
ness and  trust  are  offered  freely  to  every  one. 

The  question  of  prediction  in  Isaiah's  preaching  is  in- 
volved in  difficulties  such  as  must  prevent  any  proper  discus- 
sion of  it  here.  What  we  know  is  that  Isaiah  foretold 
the  Day  of  Yahweh  as  a  day  of  judgment  upon  Israel,  and 
the  coming  of  the  Assyrians  as  the  means  by  which  this  judg- 
ment would  be  executed.  If  he  foretold  the  escape  of  Jeru- 
salem when  it  was  besieged  by  Sennacherib's  army,  then  we 
should  have  here  a  striking  instance  of  foresight  or  premoni- 
tion as  to  a  concrete  event.  There  are  many  reasons  for 
doubting  whether  tradition  is  correct  at  this  point.  It  is, 
on  the  whole,  more  probable  that  the  event  produced  the 
prediction.  There  are  many  and  deep-lying  difficulties  in 
the  way  of  supposing  that  Isaiah  is  responsible  for  the  later 
dogma  of  the  inviolable  safety  of  Jerusalem,  which  it  was 
Jeremiah's  chief  task  to  deny. 

Jeremiah  is  the  prophet  about  whose  inner  life  we  know 
most,  and  we  may  also  fairly  claim  that  he  is  the  greatest  of 
all.  He  is  certainly  the  most  human,  and  his  prophetic 
experiences  are  most  emphatically  experiences  of  the  inner 
life.     His  calling  is  told  in  the  first  chapter,  and  gives  us 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS      23 

the  impression  of  an  absolute  assurance  that  God  has  made 
him  what  he  is,  put  his  words  in  his  mouth,  made  him  an  iron 
pillar   and   brazen  wall   against  the   land   and   people,   but 
that  this  calling   and  equipment  came   neither   at   a   given 
moment  nor  by  any  outward  experience,  but  belonged  to  his 
underlying  self-consciousness,  and  seemed  to  have  belonged 
to  him  from  birth.     Even  before  birth  Yahweh  knew  him 
and  appointed  him  a  prophet.     The  visions  that  are  given  in 
this  chapter  did  not  make  him  a  prophet.     They  are,   in 
fact,  like  the  visions  of  Amos,  mere  points  of  connection 
in  objects  that  happen  to  come  before  his  eyes,  with  which, 
by  a  play  on  words  or  a  simple  symbolism,  he  connects  his 
expectation  of  judgment.     It  has  been  truly  remarked  that 
in  Jeremiah  prayer  takes  the  place  of  vision  as  the  means 
and  manner  of  his  contact  with   God.     Of   these  prayers, 
the  poetic  monologues  already  alluded  to,  one  is  especially 
enlightening  in  regard  to  his  religious  and  prophetic  con- 
sciousness.    In   chapter    15,  verses    15-21,   the  prophet   re- 
fers to  his  first  finding  of  the  words  of  Yahweh,  to  his  joy 
in  them,  and  then  the  loneliness  and  perpetual  pain  which 
their  utterance  brought  him.     He  complains  of  this  to  God, 
and  even  expresses  his  fear  lest  Yahweh  has  deceived  and 
deserted  him.     To  these  doubts  Yahweh  replies,  demanding 
that  he  take  back  the  unworthy  things  he   has  said,   and 
promises  that  he  will  then  again  make  him  a  brazen  wall 
against  which  the  people  will  fight  but  not  prevail.     That 
the   experience  of   his   prophetic  call   is   repeated   a  second 
time  in  an  inner  conversation  and  debate  with  God  is  very 
significant  as  to  the  original  nature  of  that  experience.     It 
is  true  that  Jeremiah's  sense  of  being  under  the  pressure  of  a 
divine  compulsion   is  not  less  strong  than  that  of   Isaiah. 
There  is  a  striking  and  powerful  expression  of  this  in  20 :  7- 
11.     "  Yahweh,  thou  hast  deceived  me,  and  I  was  deceived: 
thou  art  stronger  than  I,  and  hast  prevailed:  I  am  become 
a  laughing-stock  all  the  day,  every  one  mocketh  me.     For 


24  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

as  often  as  I  speak,  I  cry  out;  I  cry,  Violence  and  spoil: 
because  the  word  of  Yahweh  is  made  a  reproach  unto  me, 
and  a  derision,  all  the  day.     And  if  I  say,  I  will  not  make 
mention   of   him,   nor   speak   any   more   in   his  name,   then 
there  is  in  my  heart  as  it  were  a  burning  fire  shut  up  in 
my  bones,  and  I  am  weary  with  forebearing,  and  I  cannot 
contain."     This    is    a    first    hand    outpouring    of    a    great 
prophetic    consciousness    which    needs    no    comment.     The 
humanity   and   the   divine   impulsion   and   authority   of   the 
true  prophet  are  here  completely  and   inseparably  blended. 
The    mysticism   of    Jeremiah   stands    in    a    peculiarly    il- 
luminating relation  to  the  legalism  of  Josiah's  reformation, 
that  is,  to  the  law  book  of  Deuteronomy.     The  relation  of 
Jeremiah  to  this  book,  discovered  and  put  into  effect  only  a 
few  years  after  the  beginning  of  his  prophesying,  is  another 
problem  too  complicated  for  us  to  enter  upon.     It  seems 
probable  that  the  hopes  with  which  Jeremiah  may  first  have 
greeted  the  appearance  of  this  prophetic  reformation  of  the 
popular   religion   were   disappointed   in    the   outcome.     Cer- 
tainly the   religion   he  taught  and   the   hopes  he   cherished 
were  of  different  and  even  opposite  nature  and  tendency. 
Against  the  exaltation  of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  Jeremiah 
declared  that  it  was  God's  purpose  to  destroy  it,  even  as 
he  had  the  sanctuary  in  Shiloh.     Those  who  were  proclaim- 
ing "  The  temple  of  Yahweh  "  as  a  ground  of  trust  and  as 
a  shield  of   sin,  were   uttering  lying  words.     The  popular 
proverb,  "  We  are  wise,  and  the  law  of  Yahweh  is  with  us," 
is  met  by  the  assertion  that  "  the  false  pen  of  the  scribes 
hath   wrought   falsely.     The  wise   men  .  .  .  have    rejected 
the  word  of  Yahweh."     The  sacrificial  system,   he  affirms, 
does  not  go  back  to  Moses  and  the  wilderness.     In  general, 
the  reformation  seems  to  be  condemned  as  undertaken  feign- 
edly,  and  not  with  the  whole  heart.     The  prophet's  own  idea 
of    religion    is   given    in   his    great   description    of    the   new 
covenant,  when  the  law  of  Yahweh  will  be  written  in  the 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS      25 

heart  and  every  man  will  have  his  own  knowledge  of  Yahweh, 
from  the  least  to  the  greatest,  needing  no  teacher,  nor  any 
priest,  since  sin  will  be  remembered  no  more.  To  Jeremiah, 
also,  therefore,  the  experience  of  the  prophet  should  be  the 
experience  of  every  man.  If  it  is  now  exceptional,  it  is, 
nevertheless,  in  its  nature  not  unhuman  but  normal  and 
destined  to  universality.  On  the  contrary,  the  religion  of  a 
written  canonical  law,  which  claims  finality,  as  Deuteronomy 
did  (12:32),  and  unqualified  and  perpetual  obedience, 
necessarily  fears  and  must  undertake  to  repress  or  control 
the  words  of  prophets.  So,  in  fact,  the  Book  of  Deutero- 
nomy does.  Prophets  may  do  miracles  and  their  predic- 
tions may  prove  true,  yet  if  their  teaching  goes  contrary  to 
the  doctrine  or  precepts  of  the  law  they  must  be  rejected, 
and  even  put  to  death  (13:1-5).  Prophets  are,  indeed, 
to  arise  to  whom  the  people  must  listen,  but  they  are  to  be 
prophets  like  Moses,  prophets  who  speak  the  things  com- 
manded. In  fact,  under  a  religion  of  the  law,  there  can 
be  no  prophet  like  Moses,  "  whom  Yahweh  knew,  face  to 
face"  (34:10).  It  is  evident  how  effectually  such  prin- 
ciples as  these  would  discourage  and  quench  the  spirit  of 
prophecy.  It  was,  indeed,  precisely  the  currency  of  such 
principles  that  made  Jeremiah  feared  and  hated,  and  his 
life  one  perpetual  martyrdom. 

Jeremiah  discusses  in  some  detail  the  character  of  the 
prophets  whom  he  judges  false.  Among  them  Hananiah 
stands  out  conspicuously,  who  predicted  that  the  exiles  of 
597  would  return  within  two  years  (chapter  28).  This 
prophecy  of  peace  is  the  very  essence  of  false  prophecy,  as 
Jeremiah  views  it  (28:  7-9).  He  does  not  judge  that  these 
prophets  have  been  misled  by  a  deceiving  spirit  from  Yahweh, 
as  Micaiah  judged  concerning  the  four  hundred  prophets 
of  Ahab;  he  declares,  on  the  contrary,  that  they  are  con- 
scious deceivers,  speaking  a  vision  of  their  own  heart,  and 
not  out  of  the  mouth  of  Yahweh;  saying,  I  have  dreamed, 


26  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

and  prophesying  lies;  but  the  word  of  Yahweh  which  is 
like  fire,  and  like  a  hammer  that  breaks  the  rock  in  pieces, 
they  do  not  possess  (23:  9  ff.). 

As  to  prediction,  we  are  sure  only  that  Jeremiah  fore- 
told the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  at  the  hands  of  the  Baby- 
lonians (chapters  7  and  26).  From  the  Scythian  invasion, 
which  perhaps  occasioned  Jeremiah's  first  appearance  as  a 
prophet,  on  to  the  end  of  his  life,  he  is  sure  that  judgment 
against  Judah  is  the  purpose  of  God,  and  that  neither  Jeru- 
salem nor  the  temple  is  to  escape.  In  4:23-27  the  coming 
desolation  and  chaos  are  described  as  if  actually  seen  in 
vivid  anticipation.  But  it  is  not  vision,  but  rather  insight 
and  moral  judgment,  on  which  Jeremiah  rests  the  most  in- 
credible of  his  forecasts,  that  of  Jerusalem's  overthrow  (7:1- 

15). 

Ezekiel  stands  between  the  prophets  of  the  second  sort  and 
those  of  the  third,  the  apocalyptic  type.  In  part,  his  mes- 
sage is  identical  with  Jeremiah's.  He  affirms,  with  him,  that 
Jerusalem  is  about  to  fall.  But  his  nature,  his  religious 
experience,  his  teaching  and  outlook,  differ  radically  from 
those  of  the  prophets  before  him.  We  are  concerned  here 
only  to  notice  that  in  Ezekiel  vision  and  ecstasy  are  revived, 
while  prophecy  in  its  more  ethical  and  spiritual  qualities 
begins  that  decline  from  which  it  did  not  recover  until  the 
coming  of  Christ.  The  vision  of  Ezekiel,  told  in  the  first 
chapter,  is  naturally  to  be  compared  with  that  of  Isaiah. 
The  physical  details  are  far  more  elaborated,  but  the  intel- 
lectual content  is  far  poorer,  and  of  ethical  or  spiritual 
significance  one  can  hardly  speak.  This  theophany  is  seen 
in  trance,  and  conveys  to  the  prophet  the  visible  assurance 
that  Yahweh  is  free  from  the  temple  of  Jerusalem;  that  the 
temple  can  fall  without  violating  his  transcendence,  since  his 
throne  is  a  chariot  that  moves  freely  where  it  will;  and  that 
the  exiles  in  Babylonia  are  not  shut  off  from  the  worship  of 
him,  since  he  can  come  to  them  there.     The  departure  of 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS      27 

Yahweh  from  the  temple  before  its  fall  and  his  final  return 
to  the  new  temple  of  the  Messianic  times  form,  in  fact, 
a  central  thought  in  Ezekiel's  revelation.  And  because  God's 
presence  in  Jerusalem  was  physically  conceived,  so  his  de- 
parture and  return  must  be  physically  experienced.  It  is 
for  this  reason  that  vision,  in  the  proper  sense,  is  a  natural 
form  in  which  his  revelation  is  received  and  expressed. 
Over  against  the  inwardness  of  Jeremiah's  experience  of  God, 
we  feel  the  prevailing  externality  that  separates  God  from 
man  in  Ezekiel.  The  spirit  of  God  lifts  him  up  and  carries 
him  away  bodily.  The  hand  of  Yahweh  is  strong  upon  him 
and  forces  him  to  come  and  go  against  his  will.  He  is 
translated  from  Babylonia  to  Jerusalem,  where  he  sees 
the  abominations  that  are  defiling  the  temple,  and  beholds 
the  departure  of  Yahweh  through  the  east  gate.  And  then 
the  spirit  lifts  him  up  and  brings  him  "  in  the  vision  by  the 
spirit  of  God  into  Chaldea,"  where  he  tells  the  captives  the 
things  Yahweh  had  shown  him  (8-1 1).  Later  on,  long 
after  the  destruction  of  the  city,  he  is  once  more  carried 
to  Palestine  "  in  the  visions  of  God,"  and  is  shown  God's 
plans  for  a  new  Jerusalem,  a  new  land  of  Israel,  a  new 
temple;  measurements  and  details  being  imparted  to  him  by 
an  angelic  interpreter.  So  that  even  his  law,  his  contribu- 
tion to  the  coming  priestly  law  of  the  new  Judaism,  comes 
to  him  in  the  form  of  a  vision,  and  is  experienced  and  im- 
parted as  things  seen  and  heard   (40-48). 

In  spite  of  all  this,  Ezekiel  often  announces  like  the  others 
"  the  words  of  Yahweh,"  with  no  evidence  expressed  or  im- 
plied, of  visionary  accompaniments;  and  at  certain  points, 
especially  in  his  exposition  of  the  rights  of  the  individual 
before  God,  in  his  description  of  God's  shepherding  of  his 
scattered  people,  and  most  of  all  in  his  conception  of  the 
renewal  of  human  nature  by  the  incoming  of  the  divine 
spirit,  his  message  is  worthy  of  following  theirs  (18,  34, 
36:  25-27).     Nevertheless  his  conception  of  God  and  hence 


28  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

his  idea  of  worship  and  his  experience  of  inspiration  are 
rather  revivals  of  earlier  views  and  anticipations  of  later  and 
lower  levels  than  those  reached  by  the  men  we  have  been 
studying.  His  vision  is  meant  to  impress  us  with  the  dis- 
tance of  God  rather  than  his  nearness.  The  approach  to 
him  is  long  and  distracting;  and  when  we  reach  him  in  the 
end,  even  though  he  has  "  a  likeness  as  the  appearance  of  a 
man,"  yet  we  see  scarcely  more  than  a  blaze  of  light  before 
which  man  falls  on  his  face  and  cannot  rise  until  summoned 
and  empowered  by  God  himself. 

i 

What,  now,  shall  be  our  judgment  in  regard  to  the  experi- 
ences characteristic  of  these  greater  prophets,  who  are  also 
best  known  and  have  so  great  and  creative  an  influence  upon 
the  spiritual  history  of  the  world? 

Among  the  four  whom  we  have  principally  considered  only 
one,  Isaiah,  can  be  said  to  be  characterized  by  visionary 
experiences,  and  even  in  his  case  vision  proper  seems  limited 
to  the  one  crisis  which  made  him  a  prophet.  Moreover,  the 
contents  of  this  vision  is  such  that  vision  is  not  necessary 
for  its  discovery  or  confirmation.  We  know,  of  course,  that 
what  Isaiah  saw  is  not  the  objective  reality  of  what  stands 
about  the  throne  of  God.  We  can  even  see  that  a  certain 
danger  belonged  to  the  experience  of  these  truths  in  vision 
form.  Other  men  might  easily  suppose  either  that  such 
knowledge  was  beyond  their  powers,  or  that  all  that  could 
be  expected  of  them  was  the  obedient  acceptance  of  the 
word  of  the  prophet.  There  was  even  some  danger  that  the 
great  thoughts  themselves  might  be  obscured  by  this  form  of 
utterance.  The  initiative  belongs  entirely  to  God,  and  the 
attitude  of  man  seems  to  be  so  entirely  that  of  receptiveness 
that  a  weakening  of  moral  effort  might  result,  and  one  might 
expect  salvation  from  God  on  the  sole  condition  of  passive- 
ness  and  assent.  These  very  dangers  re-appear  in  connec- 
tion with  Paul,  whose  experience,  as  we  have  seen,  was  not 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS      29 

unlike  that  of  Isaiah.  These  tendencies  were  not  in  accord- 
ance with  the  purpose  either  of  Isaiah  or  of  Paul.  Both  men 
assumed  that  all  others  could  and  should  see  for  themselves 
the  truths  which  came  to  them  through  this  opening  of  their 
eyes  to  things  unseen.  They  both  assumed  also  that  faith  in 
a  God  who  saves  the  humble  and  believing  will  stimulate, 
rather  than  displace,  moral  endeavor.  What  is  important 
is  to  recognize  that  the  truth  and  the  importance  of  a 
prophet's  message  do  not  depend  on  the  psychological  con- 
dition in  which  it  is  received.  We  have  in  every  case  to 
judge  value  and  truth  and  importance  in  human  history  in- 
dependently and  by  our  own  tests.  Men  in  a  sober  state  of 
mind  may  utter  great  and  epoch-making  truths,  or  common- 
places, without  power  and  effect,  and  men  in  an  ecstasy  or 
under  the  impulse  of  great  emotional  exaltation  may  do 
great  things  or  little,  may  utter  new  truths  or  familiar 
truisms  or  things  untrue.  So  that  the  bare  question  whether 
a  prophet's  self-consciousness  is  natural  or  supernatural, 
normal  or  abnormal,  carries  us  but  a  little  way  toward  a 
proper  estimation  of  his  significance.  In  any  case,  it  is  that 
which  is  within  that  counts.  No  seeing  or  hearing  can  give 
man  a  knowledge  of  God.  However  vividly  a  prophet 
imagines  and  objectifies,  what  he  gives  us  is  always  an  event 
or  a  reality  of  his  soul. 

Perhaps  the  question  which  a  psychologist  would  most 
like  to  ask  of  an  Amos  or  a  Jeremiah  is,  just  what  they 
meant  when  they  said,  "  Thus  saith  Yahweh,"  or  "  The 
word  of  Yahweh."  This  is  the  almost  uniform  introduc- 
tion to  the  oracles  of  the  great  prophets.  It  is  difficult  to 
suppose  that  it  describes  in  any  sense  an  objective  hearing. 
It  is  a  strange  manner,  and  no  doubt  expresses  a  high  self- 
consciousness,  for  a  man  to  speak  and  write  in  the  char- 
acter of  Yahweh,  speaking  in  the  first  person.  Yet  it  is 
difficult  to  avoid  the  impression  that  it  is  a  manner,  a  con- 
vention,  and   means   nothing   more,   though   this,   indeed,   is 


3o  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

much,  than  that  the  prophet  is  fully  convinced  that  what  he 
says  is  the  truth  of  God.  This  strange  consciousness  is 
well  expressed  by  that  lesser  contemporary  of  Isaiah,  the 
prophet  Micah,  when  he  says,  in  contrast  to  the  prophets 
who  preached  because  they  were  bribed  to  do  so,  and  there- 
fore shall  have  no  vision  and  no  answer  of  God,  "  But  I, 
truly,  am  full  of  power,  even  the  spirit  of  Yahweb,  and  of 
judgment,  and  of  might,  to  declare  unto  Jacob  his  trans- 
gression, and  to  Israel  his  sin." 

In  regard  both  to  the  seeing  of  visions  and  the  hearing 
of  the  word  of  God  three  possible  explanations  seem  to 
present  themselves:  first,  that  of  pure  objectivity  and  super- 
naturalism,  a  voice  really  heard,  heavenly  or  future  things 
really  seen;  second,  a  mental  experience  capable  of  psy- 
chological explanation;  as  either  where  a  given  object  calls 
forth  a  corresponding  idea,  or  where  an  idea,  after  much 
pondering,  comes  at  last  to  receive  a  plastic  representation; 
here  a  condition  more  or  less  ecstatic  or  dream-like  can  be 
assumed;  third,  some  experience  seen  as  one  looks  back 
upon  it  to  have  been  the  means  by  which  truth  was  gained 
or  virtue  attained,  and  hence  interpreted  as  an  act  of  God, 
or  as  having  come  about  at  the  divine  command.  Only  the 
second  and  third  of  these  explanations  are  open  to  the  modern 
mind. 

The  convictions  and  decisions  of  these  prophets  went 
against  current  opinion  and  they  concerned  matters  of  vital 
significance  to  the  people  and  to  their  rulers.  One  can- 
not stand  thus  alone  against  prevailing  sentiment  and  the 
authority  of  those  in  power  unless  he  has  the  conviction 
that  his  truth  is  the  word  of  God.  Ordinarily  and  normally 
our  moral  convictions  come  to  us  from  tradition  and  train- 
ing. When  one  turns  against  his  traditions  and  his  en- 
vironment, and  chooses  a  way  of  his  own,  he  must  con- 
sciously ask  himself  why  he  is  sure  he  is  right.  What  power 
in  distinction  from  that  of  the  community  and  in  contrast 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS       31 

to  it  forces  him  into  positions  where  he  is  exposed  to  hatred 
and  persecution?  It  is  worth  remembering,  also,  that  the 
primitive  prophet,  whose  equipment  was  nothing  but  his 
capacity  to  become  religiously  insane,  could  be  tolerated 
by  the  rulers  and  the  priests  of  a  community,  and  even  wel- 
comed as  proof  effective  with  the  multitude  of  the  reality 
of  divine  beings  and  the  necessity  of  religion.  But  when 
the  prophet  is  manifestly  sane  and  speaks  to  reason  and 
conscience,  uttering  truths  radical  and  subversive  of  tradi- 
tional customs  in  morals  and  religion,  he  becomes  dangerous 
to  those  whose  interests  are  in  the  maintenance  of  the  exist- 
ing order.  One  whose  convictions  force  him  to  stand  as 
a  fortified  wall  against  the  assaults  of  the  people,  requires 
to  know  that  God  is  with  him,  and  that  his  convictions  are 
God's  words. 

What  has  been  said  should  not  be  understood  to  mean 
that  the  examples  of  these  prophets  justify  the  psychologists 
in  saying  that  all  religious  experience  is  subjective  and  does 
not  involve  the  reality  of  God.  This  is  not  in  any  way  in- 
volved in  the  effort  to  understand  the  religious  experiences 
of  these  prophets  in  the  light  of  our  own,  and  as  experiences 
which  we  may  hope  to  share.  Nothing  can  be  more  certain 
than  that  these  prophets,  to  whom  vision  and  ecstasy  were 
things  of  slight  importance,  believed  themselves  to  be  in  the 
presence,  not  indeed,  of  mysterious  powers,  but  of  a  supreme 
personality  who  knew  them  and  whom  they  knew.  This 
personality  had  a  proper  name,  Yahweh.  He  was  Israel's 
God;  but  the  prophets  experienced  him  each  as  his  own  God, 
and  prophecy  reaches  its  height  in  the  realization  of  this  re- 
lationship as  that  of  friend  with  friend.  The  prophets  of 
the  first  type  were  har'dly  individual.  Their  prophetic  in- 
spiration was  the  experience  of  a  group.  And  the  prophets 
of  the  third  order  again  lost  their  individuality,  hiding  it  be- 
hind the  veil  of  an  assumed  authorship.  Prophecy  in  both 
of  these  forms  is  an  exceptional  endowment,  and  must  re- 


32  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

main  exceptional  if  it  is  to  have  effect.  If  all  men  were 
seized  with  frenzy,  society  would  be  the  chaos  of  a  mad- 
house. If  the  heavens  above  and  the.  course  of  future  events 
were  spread  out  before  the  eye  of  every  man,  the  calling 
of  the  apocalyptical  seers  would  come  to  an  end.  In  fact, 
the  powers  they  claimed  are  so  high  and  divine  that  they 
feared  to  be  disbelieved  if  they  claimed  them  for  themselves. 
Such  powers  could  be  credibly  affirmed  only  of  those  men 
of  the  remote  past  who  were  already  put  by  common  con- 
sent in  a  place  apart  from  ordinary  men,  and  on  the  side  of 
God.  Only  Enoch,  who  walked  with  God,  or  Noah,  who 
alone  was  righteous  and  perfect  in  his  generations  and  alone 
with  his  house  escaped  the  divine  judgment,  or  Abraham, 
God's  friend,  or  Moses,  whom  the  Lord  knew  face  to  face, 
or  Elijah,  who.  ascended  bodily  to  heaven,  or  some  other 
prophet  to  whom  heaven  was  opened,  or  scribe  to  whom  the 
law  of  God  was  shown,  could  be  supposed  to  have  powers 
so  above  those  of  man.  That  such  men  saw  the  future 
could  be  demonstrated  by  long  centuries  of  the  fulfillment  of 
their  words,  down  to  the  writer's  present.  Prophets  of 
the  early  and  late  period,  then,  claimed  unique  powers,  but 
actually  lost  all  individual  distinctness  and  personality.  Now 
the  great  prophets  are  conscious  that  they  are  different  from 
average  men,  but  they  do  not  desire  to  remain  different. 
Their  knowledge  of  God  is  that  inner  knowledge  which  is 
possible  to-  all  men,  and  is  the  greatness  and  joy  of  human 
nature.  Yet  each  one  of  them  stands  distinct  as  a  great 
personality  whose  character  and  life  spoke  his  message  more 
clearly  than  his  words.  And  the  message  they  spoke  and 
embodied  was  also  personal,  for  their  message  was  God. 
They  knew  themselves  to  be  under  bondage  to  God  and 
subject  to  his  compelling  will.  But  in  this  bondage  they 
found  freedom ;  mastered  as  they  were  by  God,  they  were 
yet  more  than  other  men  masters  of  themselves.  This  ex- 
perience is  essentially  emotional  in  its  character;  it  is  not  an 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS      33 

idea,  but  an  attitude  of  the  whole  man,  and  toward  the 
whole  world.  A  passionate  love  for  God,  an  enthusiastic 
championship  of  his  cause,  masters  them  and  burns  in  them 
as  a  flame.  They  do  not  see  how  it  can  be  otherwise  with 
any  man,  God  being  what  he  is.  And  as  they  do  not  need 
to  look  to  the  heavens  above  or  to  the  world  to  come  for 
God,  but  only  into  their  own  hearts,  so,  also,  they  see 
him  in  things  immediately  about  them  and  in  the  events 
of  the  day.  To  find  great  and  deep  meanings  in  the  actu- 
alities of  the  present,  to  see  the  hand  and  feel  the  power 
of  God  in  every  common  thing,  is  as  characteristic  of  the 
prophet  as  it  is  of  the  artist  and  poet.  The  prophet  sees 
all  things,  and  especially  the  things  nearest  at  hand,  in  the 
light  of  the  eternal. 

The  word  "  spirit  "  was  one  that  helped  some  prophets 
to  express  their  sense  of  the  nearness  of  the  divine  power 
and  of  its  essential  oneness  in  nature  with  man;  though 
some,  like  Jeremiah,  seemed  to  fear  its  use  lest  it  suggest 
mere  ecstasy  and  supernaturalism.  It  was  a  word  that 
needed  redemption  from  some  of  its  early  antecedents  in 
order  to  serve  the  purposes  of  ethical  religion. 

Our  first  impression  when  we  approach  the  psychological 
study  of  the  deeper  religious  experiences  of  the  prophets  is 
that  such  study  may  prove  unfruitful  and  even  unwhole- 
some, partly  because  we  are  not  prophets  ourselves,  and 
seem  to  assume  too  much  when  we  undertake  to  measure 
their  experience  by  our  own,  partly  because  they  were  so 
far  from  being  psychologists,  and  did  not  reflect,  as  modern 
scientists  do,  on  the  sources  or  nature  of  their  experience; 
in  fact,  if  they  had  done  so,  we  instinctively  feel  that  they 
could  have  been  prophets  no  longer,  and  that  the  world 
would  have  suffered  an  irreparable  loss.  Can  we,  then,  who 
cannot  help  being  psychologists,  still  hope  to  make  our  own 
in  any  real  sense  the  experience  of  these  mighty  men  of 
God?     If  ecstasy  or  vision  were   the   distinctive  mark  of 


34  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

prophecy,  then  we  should  have  to  say  that  the  scientific  un- 
derstanding of  such  experiences  brought  with  it  incapacity 
to  reproduce  them.  But  we  have  found,  on  the  contrary, 
that  psychological  studies,  in  fact,  have  this  effect  only  upon 
prophecy  of  the  crude  and  primitive  type,  and  upon  that 
later  development  of  it  which  claims  to  give  knowledge  of 
times  and  worlds  out  of  the  reach  of  the  mind  of  man, 
claims  disproved  by  the  mere  passage  of  time,  and  still  more 
by  the  mind's  growing  mastery  of  the  mysteries  of  the 
physical  universe.  The  study  of  the  religious  experiences 
of  the  great  prophets,  if  conducted  with  sympathy  and  rev- 
erence, has  quite  the  opposite  and  an  altogether  favorable 
effect  upon  the  religious  life.  We  cannot,  indeed,  put  our- 
selves back  into  their  ways  of  thinking,  any  more  than  into 
the  actual  experiences  of  Israel  with  which  they  had  to 
do.  But  our  modern  studies  re-discover  the  prophets  as  men 
great  in  those  qualities  of  character  and  spirit  which  do  not 
change  from  age  to  age.  We  need,  and  shaU  always  need, 
as  Arnold  says,  the  inspiration  of  their  enthusiasm  for  the 
power  that  makes  for  righteousness.  We  need,  also,  as 
Arnold  could  not  say,  the  inspiration  of  their  intimacy  with 
the  personal  God,  the  assurance  of  their  friendship  with  the 
great  Friend. 

These  prophets  were  great  personalities.  It  is  because 
their  truth  was  true  in  themselves,  truly  incarnated  in  their 
spirits,  that  it  had  freshness  and  vitality,  and  was  new 
however  often  it  might  have  been  said  before.  It  is  for 
the  same  reason  that  others  could  not  but  feel  and  know 
the  truth  of  their  words,  however  radical  and  counter  to  their 
wishes  and  interests  and  habits  they  were.  And  again  the 
same  fact,  that  they  were  themselves  their  message,  was  the 
secret  of  its  power  to  work  out  its  realization  in  events. 
Newness,  persuasiveness,  and  creative  power,  belong  to  truth 
that  is  embodied  in  persons. 

But  the  prophets  did  not  set  out  to  be  grea"  personalities, 


MYSTICISM  OF  HEBREW  PROPHETS      35 

and  never  thought  of  viewing  their  prophetic  calling  as  a 
way  to  personal  influence  and  power.  On  the  contrary 
they  became  great  only  by  the  renunciation  of  greatness. 
It  is  of  them  that  the  truth  is  preeminently  true  that  one 
who  loses  himself  shall  find  himself.  No  prophet  can  choose 
or  achieve  the  prophet's  calling  by  himself;  nor  can  he  exer- 
cise prophetic  gifts  for  himself.  He  is  chosen  and  called 
by  God,  and  he  is  sent  to  his  fellow  men.  He  is  God's  mes- 
senger and  agent,  and  does  not  even  speak  in  his  own  name. 
His  "  Thus  saith  the  Lord  "  is  not  self-assertion  or  a  high 
self-consciousness,  it  is  self-denial  in  complete  subjection  to 
the  thought  and  will  of  the  Eternal.  And  if  his  self-con- 
sciousness is  lost  in  God-consciousness  on  the  one  side,  it 
passes  over  on  the  other  into  national  consciousness.  The 
prophets  do  and  sacrifice,  they  pray  and  hope,  for  their 
nation ;  and  at  times  assume  even  in  action  the  very  charac- 
ter and  personality  of  the  nation  (comp.  Hos.  1-3,  Isa.  20, 
Jer.  27-28,  Ezek.  4,  24:  15-27).  Yet  in  spite  of  this  loss 
of  self  in  God  and  for  him,  and  in  and  for  their  nation, 
or  rather,  precisely  because  of  this  loss,  and  in  and  through 
it,  they  find  so  large  and  great  a  self  that  we  can  scarcely 
look  at  them  as  human,  and  doubt  our  right  to  understand 
their  experience  or  to  look  for  any  parallel  to  it  in  our  own. 
We  are  not,  indeed,  understanding  nor  in  any  measure 
sharing  the  religious  experience  of  the  prophets  unless  we 
know  what  it  means  to  lose  ourselves  in  God,  and  to  lose 
ourselves  in  our  fellow  men,  and  by  this  double  loss  of 
self  to  find  our  true  selves  and  to  realize  our  higher  selves. 
Something  of  this  we  do  no  doubt  experience  whenever  in 
our  search  for  truth  or  in  our  response  to  beauty  or  to  high 
ideals  of  virtue  we  are  conscious  of  a  higher  and  divine 
realm  of  worth  and  of  reality,  from  which  we  come,  to 
which  we  belong,  which  we  too  rarely  perceive  or  possess, 
or  in  any  vivid  sense  feel  to  be  ourselves.  And,  on  the 
other  hand,  none  of  us  can  be  without  some  experience  of 


36  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

that  other  larger  self,  the  society  of  our  fellow  men,  revealed 
to  us  by  the  instincts  of  self-denial  in  service  and  of  disin- 
terestedness in  loyalty  and  devotion. 

It  is  such  experiences  that  teach  us  the  true  nature  of 
the  mysticism  of  the  prophets.  It  is  such  experiences  to 
which  we  are  helped  and  in  them  confirmed  and  strengthened 
more  than  by  any  other  means  by  those  holy  souls  into  whom 
has  entered  more  abundantly  and  in  whom  has  remained  in 
more  abiding  power  that  Holy  Spirit  which  loves  to  make 
of  men  friends  of  God  and  prophets. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA 
Edward  Washburn  Hopkins 

If  mysticism  included  all  that  is  mysterious,  it  were  possi- 
ble to  find  it  in  almost  every  Hindu  cult  and  to  trace  it 
back  to  the  earliest  literature.  There  is,  for  example,  the 
Vedic  wild  Muni,  who  probably  reflects  a  mystic  rapproche- 
ment with  divinity,  analogous  to  that  of  the  dancing  dervish ; 
there  is  the  mystic  communion  established  by  the  Vedic  sac- 
rifices (especially  to  the  Manes),  in  which  the  worshipper 
receives  divine  power  through  a  commensal  meal;  there  is 
the  (epic)  hypnotic  trance,  in  which  the  operator  compels 
the  obedience  of  the  subject  by  what  is  regarded  as  a  mystic 
power;  and  finally  there  is  the  Brahmanic  apocalyptic 
mysticism,  which  begins  with  a  vision  of  the  world  to  come 
and  culminates  in  the  visit  of  Naciketas  to  the  realm  of 
death.  This  last  form  is  of  some  historical  interest  because 
it  may  have  led  eventually  to  the  vision  of  Arda  Viraf,  which 
in  turn  has  been  supposed  to  be  the  (Sassanid)  model  of  the 
Divina  Commedia.1 

But  these  forms  of  "  mysticism  "  must  here  be  passed  over 
allusively;  nor  need  we  linger  to  explain  the  "  pantheistic 
mystic  speculation  "  of  the  Rig  Veda  poets,  who  in  x.  29 
have  derived  Being  from  Not-Being  through  the  agency  of 
heat  and  desire,  which  is  the  "  primal  seed  of  mind,"  and  in 
x.  90  describe  the  world  as  caused  by  the  sacrifice  of  the 
Divine  Man,  whose  body  in  part  is  the  world  itself.     Of 

aIn  regard  to  the  curious  case  of  epic  hypnotism  see  the  writer's 
article  on  Yoga  technique  in  the  Jour.  Am.  Orient.  Soc.  XXII 
(1901).  After  RV.  x.  135,  the  Taittiriya  Brahmana  iii.  11,  8,  gives 
a  vision  of  the  next  world,  later  elaborated  in  the  Katha 
Upanishad. 

37 


38  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

such  naive  (not  profound)  speculation  there  is  a  plenty  in 
the  Vedic  age,  early  and  late.  For  our  purpose  they  are 
negligible,  since  the  mysticism  we  are  examining  is  of  another 
sort,  namely  that  which  is  exhibited  in  the  ineffable  but 
transient  state  of  the  soul  at  one  with  the  divine  (or  with  its 
supranormal  equivalent),  the  soul  being  either  intellectually 
or  emotionally  intuitive  of,  or  identified  with,  the  world- 
power. 

Five  divisions  of  the  subject  appear  as  the  phenomena  show 
themselves  in  history:  First,  in  the  mystics  of  the 
Upanishads.  Second,  in  the  early  Buddhistic  mystics. 
Third,  in  the  scientific  Yoga.  Fourth,  in  a  blending  of 
Brahmanic  and  later  Buddhistic  mysticism.  Fifth,  in  the 
mediaeval  emotional  mystics. 

In  the  first  four  of  these  divisions  we  have  to  do  not  so 
much  with  individuals  as  with  schools,  forms  of  religious 
faith,  general,  not,  as  in  the  isolated  cases  of  mysticism  known 
to  us  by  the  names  Plotinus,  Francis,  etc.,  special  abnormal 
phenomena,  but  systematically  induced  and  perfectly  con- 
trolled states.  Even  in  the  Theragathas  of  the  early  Bud- 
dhists, although  they  antedate  our  known  systems,  the  indi- 
vidual appears  to  be  working  under  a  system,  and  the  name 
attached  to  the  special  anna  or  gnosis,  is  without  historical 
value. 

The  object  of  all  Brahmanic  and  Buddhist  mysticism  is  to 
escape  from  life  as  it  is  into  a  state  mystically  conceived  as 
larger  and  better,  to  escape  from  the  bonds  of  individuality 
into  the  unbound,  from  the  limitation  of  time  into  the  eternal, 
albeit  that  escape  may  bring  with  it  the  renunciation  of  per- 
sonality. Theistically  expressed,  man  seeks  union  with  God 
not  by  going  to  him  but  by  realizing  him,  the  realization  itself 
being  identical  with  the  attainment.  He  who  knows  Brahma 
becomes  Brahma.  This  is  perhaps  no  more  than  the  logical 
extension  of  early  Vedic  identification  of  the  microcosm  with 
the  macrocosm,  but  it  expresses  itself  otherwise  and  indeed  in 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  39 

various  ways.  To  reach  God  by  immediacy  often  leads  either 
to  metaphysics  or  to  magic.  But  the  true  mystic  is  neither 
a  metaphysician  nor  a  magician ;  he  knows  by  an  illumination, 
by  intuition. 

To  begin  with  our  first  division.  Early  philosophical 
treatises  from  about  the  seventh  century  b.  c.  and  known  as 
Seances  (Upanishads)  with  a  connotation  of  the  mysterious, 
show  that  their  authors  sought  the  changeless  One  and  found 
him  beyond  reason,  "  not  to  be  attained  with  the  mind,"  a 
One  of  which  can  be  posited  only  negation  of  attributes;  he 
is  within  the  heart  smaller  than  a  grain  of  mustard  seed,  yet 
he  is  without,  greater  than  all  the  worlds;  he  is  man,  woman, 
fire ;  yet  he  is  definable  only  with  the  words  "  not,  not." 
Philosophically  this  Being  is  at  first  purely  idealistic;  noth- 
ing exists  save  as  it  exists  in  the  individual.  This  pure 
idealism,  confronted  with  the  cold  facts  of  life,  material 
phenomena,  was  subsequently  modified  to  the  extent  that 
phenomena  were  regarded  not  as  unreal  but  as  a  form  of  the 
real.  In  either  case  the  individual  soul  can  by  intuition 
based  on  knowledge  but  surpassing  it,  realize  the  immutable 
One,  and  in  this  intuition,  which  to  the  later  writers  is  a 
special  grace  of  God,  man  attains  to  oneness  with  the  One. 
So  far  this  is  a  noetic  application  of  a  reasoned  philosophy; 
but  the  philosophers  are  poets  (writing  largely  in  verse)  and 
as  poets  they  become  emotional  mystics.  The  vision  of  the 
eternal  is  one  that  causes  not  only  immortality,  that  is,  con- 
joins them  with  the  immutable  immortal,  but  is  the  well- 
spring  of  ineffable  joy.  They  feel  the  mystic  rapture. 
Thus: 

He  who  has  realized  th'  immortal  Brahm 
As  One  without  beginning,  middle,  end, 
He  enters  into  pure  serenity 
And  everlasting  peace  (Mandukya  Karika). 

As  God  of  all,  All-god,  maker  of  all  things; 
As  he  that  in  the  heart  of  man  abideth, 


4o  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

By  the  heart  alone  conceived,  by  mind  and  fancy  — 

Who  thus  know  God,  they  have  become  immortal. 

Within  his  light,  nor  night  nor  day  existeth, 

Being,  Not-being;  all  is  he,  the  blessed; 

He  is  the  treasure  sought  by  Vedic  poets; 

From  him  was  born  all  knowledge  and  all  wisdom. 

Above,   below,   across,   or   in  the  middle, 

None  hath  grasped  God;  nor  is  there  any  image 

Of  him  whose  only  name  is  this,  Great  Glory. 

His  form  invisible  is  and  always  will  be; 

For  he  in  mind  and  heart  abides.     Who  know  him 

As  their   own   soul,   they  have   become   immortal. 

And  again: 

The  soul  of  all  things  is  the  one  controller 

Who  makes  his  one  form  manifold  in  many. 

The  wise  that  him  as  their  own  soul  acknowledge, 

They  have  eternal  joy,  but  not  so,  others. 

Among  the  transient  he  is  the  everlasting, 

The  only  wise  one  he  among  the  unwise, 

The  One  mid  many.     Him  perceive  the  sages 

In  their  own  souls  and  feel  a  peace  eternal. 

The  sun  shines  not,  nor  moon  nor  stars  nor  lightning, 

Nor  earthly  fire,  within  the  All-soul's  heaven; 

For  he  alone  is  the  light  that  all  shines  after, 

And  by  his  light  is  all  the  world  illumined.2 

The  individual  soul  is  here  not  imagined  to  be  in  a  state 
of  longing  to  merge  itself  with  the  All-Soul ;  it  does  not  long 
for  communion  with  God.  It  strives  to  realize  that  it  is 
God ;  that  there  is  no  duality.  Destroy  the  illusion  of  dual- 
ity and  you  are  immediately  filled  with  the  consciousness  of 
oneness  with  the  Absolute  Power,  Brahma,  the  World  Soul, 
Atman.  The  so-called  New  Testament  of  India,  the 
Bhagavad  Gita,  is  really  only  a  theistic  continuation  of  the 
Upanishads.  It  too  lays  stress  upon  the  principle  of  non- 
duality;  but  it  introduces  a  new  element  in  stressing  still 
more  the  grace  of  God  as  a  God  of  love.     Hence  the  devotee 

2  India,  Old  and  New,  p.  85.     From  the  Kathaka  Upanishad. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  41 

is  said  to  "come  to  the  Lord."  Thus:  "  He  who  works 
for  me,  he  who  is  intent  on  me,  he  who  is  free  from  attach- 
ments, without  emnity  toward  any  creature,  he  comes  to 
me  "  (xi.  55)  ;  and  again:  "  They  who  in  me  renounce  all  ef- 
fort, who  are  bent  on  me,  meditate  on  me,  draw  near  to  me, 
of  them  am  I  the  savior  from  the  round  of  births  and  deaths. 
Therefore  set  thy  heart  on  me,  enter  into  me  with  thy  soul, 
and  thou  shalt  dwell  with  me  in  my  home  above.  But  if 
thou  canst  not  concentrate  thy  mind  upon  me,  then  seek  to 
reach  me  by  union  through  assiduous  practice  "  (ib.  xii.  6-9). 
Here  devotion  comes  first  and  Yoga  discipline  last,  which, 
as  we  shall  see,  inverts  the  order  of  schematic  mysticism. 
The  disciple  here  seeks  union  with  God,  becomes  the  Eternal, 
and  with  infinite  rapture  feels  that  he  is  "  united  with  the 
Eternal,"  for  he  sees  his  soul  as  one  with  all  and  all  with  him ; 
he  cannot  lose  God  for  he  dwells  in  God  (ib.  vi.  27  f). 

Turning  now  to  early  Buddhistic  mysticism,  we  are  met  at 
once  with  the  question,  What  scope  for  mysticism  in  a  re- 
ligion which  admits  no  soul  and  denies  God?  We  may  per- 
haps get  the  answer  most  easily  if  we  pause  to  glance  at  the 
mysticism  which  arose  in  China  as  the  result  of  Taoism,  a 
digression  perhaps  pardonable  here  inasmuch  as  no  pro- 
vision has  been  made  in  this  course  for  Chinese  mysticism. 

Tao  is  not  a  personal  God ;  it  is  the  way  of  the  gods  or  the 
right  order  of  the  universe,  than  which  Lao  Tzu  admitted 
nothing  more  divine.  Yet  his  follower,  Chuang  Tzu,  priv- 
ileged interpreter  of  Lao  Tzu,  held  Tao  to  be  the  universal 
principle  of  good  and  a  manifestation  of  the  divine  first  prin- 
ciple or  Absolute.  Chuang  Tzu  regards  it  as  a  sort  of  world- 
spirit  with  which  he  feels  himself  blessed  in  being  one, 
though  it  is  the  unknowable  ultimate,  manifest  in  nature; 
and  inspired  by  this  thought  the  later  Po  Chii  says  that  they 
are  happy  who  delight  in  Tao's  laws: 

Within  my  breast  no  sorrow  can  abide, 

I  feel  the  great  world's  spirit  through  me  thrill, 


42  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

And  as  a  cloud  I  drift  before  the  wind. 
Since  life  and  death  in  circles  come  and  go, 
Of  little  moment  are  the  days  to  spare. 
Thus  strong  in  faith  I  wait  and  long  to  be 
One  with  the  pulsings  of  eternity.3 

"  Pass  into  the  infinite,"  said  Chuang  Tzu,  "  your  final  rest 
is  there."  And  again:  "  By  becoming  oblivious  of  self  peo- 
ple become  the  people  of  God.  But  only  those  are  capable  of 
this  who  have  entered  into  the  eternal  harmony  of  God." 

With  this  example  of  Chinese  mysticism  in  mind  we  may 
better  appreciate  what  the  early  Buddhist  sought.  He  too 
sought  to  bring  himself  into  harmony  with  the  pulsings  of 
eternity;  above  all  he  sought  by  so  doing  to  escape  from  the 
"  bog  of  birth  and  death,"  that  endless  revolution  of  the 
wheel  on  which  every  one  was  bound  and  like  Ixion  was  in 
hell.  His  means  was  the  conventional  accepted  means.  He 
retired  into  a  lonely  place  and  began  a  regular  course  of 
illuminative  meditations  with  concentrated  auto-hypnotic 
effort,  gaining  a  tranced  condition  out  of  which  he  came  with 
clarified  mind  at  harmony  with  the  world-order  and  already 
advanced  into  that  state  in  which  he  was  transported  beyond 
all  fear  of  rebirth.  The  rapture  is  expressed  in  terms  of 
salvation  or  Nibbana.  The  so-called  Psalms  of  the  early 
Buddhists  are  collections  of  confessions  attributed  to  this 
or  that  primitive  Brother  or  Sister  of  the  Order.  One  of 
these  Sisters  gives  as  her  anna  or  confession  of  faith : 
11  Buddha's  daughter  I,  born  of  his  word,  his  blessed  word, 
who  stand  transported  with  Nibbana's  bliss  alway  "  (Theri, 
xxxi).  It  is  often  a  serenity  rather  than  a  rapture:  "  Cool 
and  serene  I  see  Nibbana's  bliss  "  (Sister  Sakula,  xlix).  But 
in  these  cases  of  sudden  insight,  the  Heavenly  Eye  often 
appears.  So  Sona  says,  "  Even  as  I  grappled  with  the  cause 
of   things,   clear  shone   for   me   the    Eye   Celestial"    (xlv), 

3  Musings  of  a  Chinese  Mystic,  by  Lionel  Giles,  in  Wisdom  of 
the  East  series,  London,  1906. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  43 

which  immediately  leads  her  to  "  win  the  ecstasy  of  eman- 
cipation." 

"  Delight  in  truth  is  supreme  delight  "  and  "  to  know  .  .  . 
is  Nibbana,  supreme  happiness"  (Dhammap.  203,  354)- 
The  mystic  attains  by  way  of  apprehension  to  the  knowledge, 
as  he  attains  to  the  pure  being  and  immortality  desired,  just 
as  by  the  same  means  he  attains  to  moral  excellence  (uni- 
versal friendliness).  This  conjunction  of  immortality,  truth, 
and  love  reminds  one  forcibly  of  the  striking  expression  of 
Augustine,  who  in  his  Confessions  explains,  "  Truth,  love, 
eternity,  thou  art  my  God."  Again,  like  Wordsworth,  the 
Buddhist  might  say,  I  not  believed  but  saw  all  nature  one. 
He  sees  immortality.  Synonymous  with  the  dibba  or  heav- 
enly eye  is  the  epithet  ".purified  "  applied  to  the  eye  and  the 
explanation  that  it  is  "  super-human."  It  may  give  a  vision 
of  past  births  or  of  future  bliss  but  above  all  it  sees  truth 
and,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Upanishadist,  knowledge  is  eman- 
cipation. In  such  a  state  the  mystic  may  be  illuminated  with 
a  call  to  teach,  preach,  or  compose  verses,  and  then  these 
verses  become  his  anna,  gnosis,  acknowledgment,  confession. 
The  chief  point  here  is  that,  though  it  is  long  before  we  have 
the  scheme  of  scientific  illumination,  yet  the  operations  in  the 
case  of  the  saints  contemporary  with  Buddha  or  up  to  the 
third  century  B.  c,  to  which  date  they  may  be  provisionally 
assigned,  show  the  same  discipline. 

The  stages  of  joy  in  the  mystic  contemplation  are  described 
in  the  Yogavacara's  manual  as  introduced  by  a  phrase,  "  I 
beg  (or  pray)  for  the  bliss  "  of  this  or  that  sort.  The  mystic 
then  seeks  to  verify  or  realize,  sacchi  karoti,  the  real  sources 
of  experience,  and  these  with  the  impermanence  of  all  things, 
and  then,  through  this  realization,  to  master  the  process  of 
change  and  free  himself  from  it,  by  means  of  devices, 
kasinas  which  are  like  Boehme's  gazing  at  pewter,  whereby 
he  "  beheld  the  real  properties  of  all  things."  The  Buddhist 
induces   abnormal   consciousness   by   the  methodical   process 


44  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

called  Samadhi,  first  by  focussing  his  thought,  cittass' 
ekaggata,  and  thus  attaining  i)   a  little  thrill  khuddata  piti; 

2)  a  momentary  joy,  khanika  piti   ("momentary  flash"); 

3)  a  flood  of  emotion,  okkantika  piti,  in  which  he  is  sub- 
merged as  with  a  wave;  4)  an  elated  rapture,  ubbega  piti,  in 
which  he  is  transported,  not  only  mentally  but  physically, 
so  that  he  can  rise  and  float  off;  and  5)  an  all  pervading 
ecstasy,  pharana  piti.4 

According  to  later  views,  "  the  unintelligent  has  no  trance 
and  the  unintranced  has  no  intelligence  "  (Dhammap.  372). 
But  the  intuitive  flash  of  knowledge,  or  suffusion  of  insight 
in  the  early  period  may  be  the  result  of  a  personal  expe- 
rience rather  than  of  a  system  of  concentrated  meditation. 
Thus  in  the  Theri  (xlvii),  one  of  the  Sisters  has  a  vision 
of  the  Buddha  and  of  Truth  through  visual  observation  of 
what  happens  to  water  when  it  flows  out  and  what  happens 
to  a  lamp  when  it  is  extinguished,  and  this  is  her  gnosis 
(knowledge  and  confession)  : 

"  Unto  my  cell  I  go  and  take  ray  lamp, 
And  seated  on  my  couch  I  watch  the  flame; 
Then  grasp  the  pin  and  push  the  wick  right  down 
Into  the  oil  —  Nibbana  of  my  lamp! 
So  to  my  mind  comes  freedom." 

The  Manual  of  a  Mystic  seems  to  refer  to  this  exercise: 
"  Meditating  on  the  wax-taper  I  aspire  to  attain  bliss"  (p. 
63).  But  it  is  interesting  to  notice  how  often  the  early 
Buddhists  are  helped  to  their  gnosis  by  this  vision  of  the 
Buddha.  Harita,  shocked  into  moral  consciousness  by  the 
sudden  death  of  his  beloved  wife,  has  a  vision  of  the  Buddha, 
who  appears  and,  admonishing  him,  leads  him  to  "  develop 
his  insight  "  (Thera  xxix).     Tissa  is  asleep  and  sees  a  vision 

4  See  the  account  in  Mrs.  Rhys  Davids'  Buddhist  Psychology, 
London,  1914,  187  f.,  and  the  (Yogavacara)  Manual  of  a  Mystic, 
1916,  pp.  xi,  xiii,  and  notes,  p.  7  f . ;  examples,  e.g.  p.  23. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  45 

of  the  Buddha  shedding  glory  upon  him  and  admonishing 
him  and  therewith  he  became  emancipated  (xxxix).  Eman- 
cipation is  here  freedom  from  existence  bound  to  Karma,  ex- 
tinction of  spatial  life  as  well  as  extinction  of  desires,  one 
being  dependent  on  the  other.  Thus  Uttara  (cxli)  says: 
nibbayissam  anasavo,  as  explained  by  the  commentator,  "  by 
the  expiry  of  the  last  moment  of  consciousness  I  shall  utterly 
pass  away  like  a  fire  without  fuel."  So  Buddha  himself  said, 
as  did  others  after  him  (ib  cliii),  "  stayed  is  the  further  rise 
of  consciousness ;  blown  even  here  to  nothingness.'' 

Buddha  himself  attained  to  enlightenment  through  the  rec- 
ognized series  of  trances.  With  him  who  was  himself  the 
Supreme  Lord,  there  could  be  no  vision  save  of  the  Truth, 
which  led  him  finally  to  that  jhana-ecstasy  which  reappears 
in  the  gnosis  of  his  disciples,  e.  g.  Theri  (cxii). 

The  completed  system  of  the  Hina  school  is  given  by 
Buddhaghosha  in  the  fifth  century  a.'d.  as  the  Way  of 
Purity,  Visuddhi  Magga.  Here  forty  subjects  of  medita- 
tion are  enlisted,  ten  pleasing,  ten  gruesome,  ten  being-  re- 
flections on  Buddha,  morality,  etc.,  and  ten  being  exalted 
states,  joy,  compassion,  love,  etc.  The  novice'  is  given  cer- 
tain subjects  to  meditate  upon,  which  brings  him  to.  one 
trance  after  another.  Hundreds  of  times  he  must  repeat 
formulas  connected  with  each  subject,  sitting  retired,  his 
eyes  fixed  on  a  red  disk,  till  he  sees  it  as  well  with  his  eyes 
closed  as  open.  Then  he  retires  to  his  hut  and  "  develops 
the  reflex,"  abandoning  investigation  and  consideration,  till 
he  attains  to  the  ecstasy  of  the  third  and  to  the  supernatural 
calm  of  the  fourth  trance.  Then  he  receives  the  clarified 
"  divine  eye  "  of  purified  intuition.5 

5  An  account  of  these  trances  will  be  found  in  Warren's  Bud- 
dhism in  Translations,  and  in  Mr.  E.  W.  Burlingame's  Legends, 
from  the  Dhammapada  Commentary,  in  HOS.  vol.  xxviii.  See  also 
Mrs.  Rhys  David's  Buddhist  Psychology,  the  Quest  Series,  London, 
1914.  As  a  result  of  his  mystic  vision  the  Buddhist  may  attain 
to  the  miraculous  powers  acquired  by  all  Yogins. 


46  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Almost  synchronous  with  this  exposition  of  Buddhistic 
Yoga  is  the  Brahmanic  Yoga  of  Patanjali,  our  third  division. 
Here,  however,  the  end  sought  is  the  isolation  of  the  soul 
from  the  bonds  of  the  sense  through  sloughing  off  the  aspects 
common  to  matter,  till  the  soul  reaches  a  pure  condition  in 
which  it  can  establish  a  relation  of  immediate  perception  or 
intuition  of  truth,  of  things  as  they  are.  Patanjali  lived 
between  three  and  five  hundred  a.  d.  He  refutes  idealism 
and  his  system  is  an  extension  of  dualistic  teaching;  it  gives 
the  means  of  attaining  to  the  Yoga-state  of  full  self-expres- 
sion. The  mind  by  concentration  learns  how  to  resist 
fluctuations  vrtti,  till  it  attains  dispassionateness.  This 
concentration,  samadht,  is  obtained  by  certain  exercises,  such 
as  breathings  and  postures,  and  gives  insight  or  intuition. 
Quite  as  important  in  the  method  are  the  sentiments  to  be 
cultivated,  friendliness,  happiness,  compassion,  etc.  The 
balanced  state  of  mind  finally  attained  then  brightens  with 
conscious  knowledge.  Positive  aids  to  Yoga  are  (a)  absten- 
tion from  injury,  from  falsehood,  theft,  incontinence  and 
rapacity  (acceptance  of  gifts),  five  in  all;  (b)  five  ob- 
servances, cleanliness,  contentment,  self-castigation,  study, 
and  devotion  to  the  Isvara  or  Lord-soul;  (c)  postures, 
described  at  length;  (d)  regulation  of  breath;  (e)  with- 
drawal of  the  senses,  which  leads  to  mastery  of  the  organs 
of  sense;  and   (f)  fixed  attention. 

The  result  of  the  late  state  of  samadhi  is  that  one  attains 
to  objectless  meditation  or  pure  ecstasy,  which  frees  the  spirit 
from  ignorance,  especially  from  the  delusion  that  spirit  has 
any  identity  with  matter.  Now  three  things  are  noticeable 
here.  First  that  the  Yoga  is  a  sober  psychological  study 
which,  however,  immediately  resolves  itself  into  magic  (mas- 
tery of  matter)  ;  second,  that  it  admits  devotion  to  the  time- 
less Lord-soul  (not  divinity),  as  equally  valid  with  its  own 
system ;  and,  third,  that  it  makes  isolation  or  separation  of 
soul  from  matter  depend  on  ecstatic  trance-induced  intuition. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  47 

As  to  the  first  point,  abstention  from  theft  makes  all  jewels 
come  to  one;  by  binding  the  mind  to  one  object,  one  fuses 
the  knower  with  the  known  and  obtains  intuitive  knowledge 
of  times  (past  births,  etc.)  ;  and  concentrated  insight  controls 
as  well  as  understands  objects  (language  of  birds,  course  of 
stars).  So  the  Brahm'anic  Yogin  (like  the  Buddhist)  can 
become  invisible'  and  perform  tricks  of  pure  magic.  Such 
is  the  content  of  the  Vibhuti-pada  (third  book).  As  to  the 
second  point,  what  is  elsewhere  of  prime  importance,  the  favor 
of  the  Lord-soul  is  here  negligently  admitted  as  one  of  the 
five  observances  but  is*  in  itself  productive  of  the  rapturous 
intuition  gained  by  the  formal  system.  The  third  point 
alone  makes  it  possible  or  rather  imperative  that  the  Yoga 
should  be  explained  as  a  mystic  system,  according  to  which 
the  whole  life  is  oriented  with  reference  to  one  idea  until 
there  is  an  emotional  transformation  corresponding  to  this 
focussed  state,  a  transformation  equivalent  to  absolute  dis- 
passionateness. This  state  of  Kaivalya  (isolation)  is  the 
culmination  of  the  system;  in  it  the  self  as -energy  of  intellect 
rests  grounded  upon  itself  (without  relation  to  the  aspects  of 
matter),  eternally  freed  from  the  effects  of  Karma.  But  this 
mysticism  is  in  no  sense  an  intuition-  of  God  (there  is  no 
God),  only  of  truth  in  regard  to  the  soul. 

The  Mahayana,  in  distinction  from  the  Hina,  was  a  com- 
bination of  early  Buddhistic  and  late  Brahmanic  philosophy. 
It  makes  a  fourth  form  of  mysticism-  in  our  list  because, 
though  based  on  Yoga,  it  has  a  different  goal  from  that  of 
Yoga  and  of  the  Hinayana.  It  appears  well  set  forth  in 
Asanga's  Mahayana  Sutralamkara*  which  explains  the 
Mahayana  not  in  nihilistic  terms,  as  in  the  Madhyamika 
School  of  N agar j una  but  according  to  the  Yogacara  School. 
It  was  about  the  time  of  the  Christian  era,  when  religion 
turned  from  solitude  to  the  world  that  Buddhism  expanded 

6  Edited  by  Sylvain  Levi,  Paris,  text,  190.7;  introduction  and 
translation,   1911, 


48  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

into  that  greater  philosophy  which  may  have  been  affected  by 
the  Manichaean  and  gnostic  influence  then  stealing  eastward, 
that  Asanga  taught.  He  lived  in  Ghandhara,  in  the  West. 
The  idea  of  the  trinity  which  as  Levi  (p.  18)  says,  "  semble 
aussi  trahir  des  influences  etrangeres,"  arises  suddenly  at  this 
time.  Early  Buddhism  no  longer  satisfied  a  church  which 
had  outgrown  the  cloister.  Iran,  near  where  Asanga  was 
born,  was  agitated  by  a  religious  revolution  (the  restoration 
of  Zoroastrianism)  affected  by  Jewish  and  Christian  thought, 
so  that  it  is  not  impossible  that  the  ideas  of  Asanga  were 
affected  by  these  and  by  the  Logoi  to  which  his  Dharmas 
correspond.  Be  that  as  it  may,  his  work  in  its  vision, 
ecstasy,  and  magic  is  essentially  Indie.7 

In  this  system  the  discipline  is  based  on  a  mystic  union 
like  that  of  love.  To  the  six  organs  (sense-organs  and 
manas)  Asanga  adds  Alaya-vi]hana,  the  fundamental  affirma- 
tion of  existence  as  the  base  of  thought:  sum  ergo  cogito. 
Pure  being  can  rid  itself  of  the  latent  effect  of  actions  by 
attaining  to  cessation  of  difference  when  the  universal  con- 
sciousness takes  the  place  of  self-consciousness  (the  Ego  no 
longer  being  "other"  than  the  whole).  Truth  realized  in 
the  intellect  (Bodhi,  as  agent)  leads  to  communion  with  the 
Buddha.  Buddha  here  is  the  real,  neither  being  nor  not-be- 
ing. Containing  all,  the  real  does  not  reveal  itself;  it  ex- 
cludes duality;  it  gives  greater  bliss  than  Nirvana  (as  cessa- 
tion). To  reach  Bodhi  is  to  become  a  Bodhisat  and  this  is 
accomplished  by  the  passage  through  ten  bhumis  or  stages 
from  Faith  to  Buddha  as  preliminary  and  final  experiences. 
With  the  first  stage  one  acquires  the  knowledge  of  the  ideas 
or  ideal  phenomena ;  in  the  second,  one  becomes  spotless  and 

7  Compare  Sen  art,  Rev.  Hist.  Relig.  1900,  Nov.  Dec,  on  the 
relation  with  the  Yoga;  also  his  Origines  Bouddhiques  Musee 
Guimet,  1907,  and  for  the  bhumis  his  M  aha  vast  u  (1882),  vol.  i, 
Introduction,  p.  xxvii  f.  The  Mahavastu  Bhumis  (possibly  seven 
at  first,  ib.  xxxv)  are  rather  ethical  stages,  lacking  the  illumination 
found  in  Asanga's  list. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  49 

is  in  perpetual  ecstatic  thought,  dhyana,  solely  occupied  with 
samddhi  (as  mystic  union)  ;  in  the  third,  the  mystic  may 
reenter  the  world  without  danger  (of  losing  what  he  has 
gained)  ;  in  the  fourth,  he  exercises  the  Wings  of  Illumina- 
tion (Bodhipaksha),  virtues  and  powers;  thus  in  the  fifth 
stage  he  appears  supernaturally  wise,  conceives  the  ideal  as 
the  universal,  etc.,  and  in  the  sixth  comes  face  to  face  with 
reality  (Nirvana  as  the  sum  of  existence)  ;  then  in  the  seventh 
stage  he  starts  on  the  way  to  becoming  a  Bodhisat,  having 
only  the  latent  impressions  left  from  Karma.  In  the  eighth, 
freed  from  personality,  he  loses  even  these  latent  effects  and 
becomes  illuminated  without  his  own  thought.  In  the  ninth 
and  tenth  stages,  respectively,  he  achieves  the  stage  of  the 
Good  Spirit  and  that  of  the  absolutely  illumined  Buddha. 

The  Mahayana  (Madhyamika)  is  found  as  a  mystic  phil- 
osophy also  in  Japan.  Kobo  Daishi  there  taught  that  man 
is  essentially  one  with  the  Supreme  (as  Buddha)  and  even  in 
this  life  may  attain  to  the  Buddha-state.  This  belief  is 
based  on  the  theory  of  Kongokai  or  Diamond  World  (of 
ideas)  existing  in  universal  thought,  to  which  the  world  of 
phenomena  is  parallel.  In  the  world  of  ideas  the  Great 
Sun,  Dainichi,  is  Vairocana,  the  All,  from  whom  emanate 
Bodhisattvas,  from  whom  again  emanate  lesser  beings,  lead- 
ing to  phenomena.  Shakyamuni,  Amitabha,  Akshobhya,  and 
Ratnasambhava  stand  round  the  central  Vairocana  like 
planets,  each  with  its  satellites ;  or  as  the  center  of  an  eight- 
petal  lotus,  Amitabha,  Mitteya,  Manjusri,  Avalokiteshvara, 
etc.  Man,  as  an  emanation  from  him,  is  one  with  the  sun 
of  life  and  of  truth,  Vairocana.  Ideas  are  the  source  of 
things;  so  if  one  has  the  correct  idea,  one  can  control  the 
thing.  Hence  Shingon,  True  Word,  as  name  of  this  sect  of 
the  ninth  century,  which  is  a  mixture  of  idealism  and 
thaumaturgy,  for  the  True  soon  becomes  the  Magic  Word, 
which  may  even  ease  the  sufferings  of  the  dead.  In  the 
Zen  sect,  truth  is  communicated  by  spiritual  telepathy  rather 


50  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

than  by  book-learning;  its  chief  characteristic  is  meditative 
abstraction,  not  a  new  idea  but  made  the  special  mark  of 
the  sect  by  Eisai  (twelfth  century),  though  the  sect  was 
introduced  into  China  by  the  first  Patriarch,  Bodhidharma, 
in  the  sixth  century.  Its  aim  is  not  so  much  to  escape  from 
rebirth  as  to  escape  the  limitation  of  the  empirical  self  by 
means  of  union  with  the  Greater  Self.  As  in  Yoga,  the 
practice  is  auto-hypnotic;  one  remains  fixed  and  staring  till 
one  becomes  conscious  of  oneness  with  all  reality,  losing  all 
consciousness  of  self,  an  ecstatic  state  in  which  one  passes  be- 
yond distinctions  of  good  and  evil,  wise  and  foolish,  and 
attains  insight  through  quietism.  The  minute  directions  as 
to  the  means  of  attainment,  postures,  etc.,  are  those  of  the 
Yoga;  one  sits  with  crossed  legs,  the  right  hand  on  the  left 
foot,  palm  up,  etc. 

In  the  thirteenth  century  Nichiren  converted  the  relapsed 
Buddhism  of  his  day  into  what  he  regarded  as  primitive  Bud- 
dhism. With  his  missionary  efforts  we  are  not  here  con- 
cerned. He  himself  wias  a  thorough  mystic,  who  taught  that 
the  kingdom  of  God  and  God  are  within.  One  should  strive 
for  the  realization  of  the  kingdom  of  the  Lord,  who  is  the 
soul  of  every  man.  The  three-fold  mystery  consists  in  the 
Supreme  Being,  Honzon,  the  Holy  See,  Kaidan,  and  the 
Sacred  Title,  Daimoku.  This  last  is  enlightenment, 
Sambhogo-kaya,  in  distinction  from  the  Dharma-kaya  or 
Mandala  (Supreme  Being),  and  from  the  actual  manifes- 
tation, Nirmana-kaya,  the  realization  of  Buddha's  mercy 
organized  in  the  place  of  the  church  universal  or  Holy  See, 
as  Buddha  in  reality  is  another  name  for  the  orderly  cosmos. 
Nichiren  believed  himself  to  be  the  reincarnation  of  an  an- 
cient saint  and  his  method  also  was  that  of  the  Yogin :  u  I 
sit  on  the  mat  of  meditation  and  in  vision  I  see  every  truth." 
The  final  aim,  however,  is  complete  realization  of  the 
Supreme  Being  in  man's  own  soul. 

Thus  these  Mahayanists,  both  Hindu  and  Japanese,  seek 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  51 

through  visionary  experience  and  the  ecstatic  trance  to  real- 
ize truth  or  God,  through  the  identification  of  self  with  real 
being,  sometimes  as  the  world-soul. 

Finally  we  come  to  that  form  of  mysticism  in  which  de- 
votion plays  a  larger  part  than  intellect.     In  the  Upanishad 
era  the  merging  of  the  self  with  the  world-self  is  likened  in 
its   swooning-like   state,    but   only   thus,    to   the   submerged 
consciousness  in  conjugal  embrace.     Emphasis  on  this  leads 
to  an  erotic  interpretation  of  intuition  from  which  the  cold 
ethics  of  early  Buddhism  preserved  its  devotees,  the  more 
easily  as  Buddha  himself  was  no  subject  for  romantic  love. 
But  with  Buddhism  rose  the  feeling  of  intense  devotion  which 
may  easily  express  itself  as  love.     In  the  early  stage  this  de- 
votion is  rather  a  form  of  faith  than  of  emotion.     Even  in 
Shankara,  bhakti,  the  technical  name  of  this  attitude,  still 
means  contemplative  concentration.     And  in  the  Bhagavad 
Gita,  though  the  connotation  is  that  of  affection,  bhakti  is 
still  without  any  erotic  tinge.     As  has  already  been  observed, 
the  Gita  has  rather  the  content  of  an  Upanishad  based  upon 
a  belief  in  a  man-god  form  of  the  All-god.      '  The  sun  shines 
not,  nor  moon  nor  fire,  whither  they  go  who  return  not  to 
earth  but  to  my  supreme  home"    (Gita,  xv.  6f).     "Seek 
wisdom   (the  man-god  declares),  whose  eye  sees  truth;  see 
self  in  the  All-self,  the  light  of  the  world.     I  am  that  light, 
as  I  am  the  essence  of  the  sap  of  all  life.     If  one  knows  me 
as  the  Supreme  Soul,  knowing  me  as  the  All,  with  all  his 
being  he  devotes  himself  to  me"    (ib.   19,  bhajati  mam  sar- 
vabhavena).     Again,  as  to  the  means:     "  Seek  solitude;  eat 
little;  control  the  speech,  the  body  and  the  mind;  be  intent 
on  union  through  vision  (dhydnayoga)  ;  avoid  vanity,  pride, 
lust,  wrath,  avarice ;  so  the  Yogin  fits  himself  for  the  eternal 
Brahma-being."     The  devotee,  "  serene  of  soul,  without  grief 
or  desire,  equable  toward  all  beings,  attains  to  highest  devo- 
tion to  me"   (madbhaktim  labhate  pardm)  ;  through  bhakti 
he  learns  my  greatness  and  my  being ;  then,  taking  refuge  in 


52  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

me,  he  enters  the  supreme;  through  my  grace,  matprasadat, 
he  obtains  the  eternal  place.  Think  ever  of  me,  be  devoted 
to  me,  through  my  grace  thou  shalt  cross  over  all  difficulties  " 
(ib  xviii.  52L).  Here  maccittah  statam  bhava  is  the  key  to 
the  following  (64-67),  isto'  si  me,  manmana  bhava  mad- 
bhaktah  .  .  .  mam  evaisyasi  .  .  .  priyo  Jsi  me,  aham  tvd 
sarvapapebhyo  moksayisyami,  ma  sucah,  "  be  devoted  in 
thought  to  me,  to  whom  thou  art  dear,  and  thou  shalt  come 
to  me  and  I  will  release  thee  from  all  evil."  This  is  not 
the  language  of  passionate  love  but  of  religious  devotion  and 
it  is  this  line  which  the  sober  saints  of  the  Marathas  fol- 
lowed, who  rejected  metaphysical  for  personal  religion  and 
worshipped  Krishna,  yet  not  as  a  lover,  but  as  a  loving  god. 
Thus  Jnanesvara,  who  in  the  thirteenth  century  wrote  a  com- 
mentary on  the  Gita,  "  to  save  the  world,"  preserves  the 
pantheistic  appeal ;  while  the  more  emotional  religion  of 
Tukaram  and  Namdev  is  still  not  erotic,  though  full  of  sen- 
timental yearning  for  the  divine.     Thus  Tuka  speaks: 

"  With  milk  of  love  Oh  suckle  me, 
At  thy  abounding  breast, 
O  mother,  haste,  in  thee,  in  thee, 
My  sad  heart  findeth  rest. 

And  again: 

How  poor  am  I ;  thy  children  we, 

Mother  of  loving  ways, 
Within  the  shadow  of  thy  grace 

Ah,  guide  us,  Tuka  says. 

The  love  of  man  is  like  that  of  a  child  for  its  mother,  or 
like  that  of  a  faithful  wife  for  the  husband : 

How  the  lotus  all  the  night, 
Dreameth  ever  of  the   light, 
As    the    stream    to    fishes    thou, 
As  is  to  the  calf  the  cow; 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  53 

To  the  faithful  wife  how  dear 
Tidings  of  her  lord  to  hear.8 

The  close  parallel  here  is  rather  with  Christian  feeling,  as 
in  this  plaintive  hymn : 

New  hope  to  Tuka  dost  thou  send, 

And  new  world  bringest  in; 
Now  know  I  every  man  a  friend 

And  all  I  meet  are  kin. 
So  like  a  happy  child  I  play 

In  thy  dear  world,  O   God, 
Where  all  around  and  every  day 

God's  bliss  is  spread  abroad. 
He  still  shall  rule  my  life,  for  he 

Is  all  compassionate; 
His  is  the  sole  authority, 

And  on  his  will  I  wait. 

But  it  was  inevitable  that  the  love  proclaimed  in  the 
Gita  should  be  rather  more  warmly  felt  in  certain  quarters. 
Thus  in  the  twelfth  century,  following  other  mystics, 
Jayadeva  wrote  a  mystical  poem,  the  Gita  Govinda,  in  which 
the  attachment  between  the  soul  and  God  is  conceived  alle- 
gorically  in  terms  of  a  human  mistress  Radha,  and  her 
lover  Krishna.  So  sensuous  is  the  perfervid  description  that 
it  has  been  doubted  whether  the  poem  was  intended  as  an 
allegory  at  all.  But  like  Solomon's  Song  it  is  religious  to  the 
very  religious-minded.  Parts  of  it,  however,  cannot  be 
translated  properly,  but  an  English  rhyme  may  give  a  gen- 
eral impression: 

Say  that  I  Radha  in  my  bower  languish 

Widowed  till  Krishna  finds  his  way  to  me; 
My  eyes  are  dim  with  longing,  all  is  anguish 

Until,  with  modest  gentle  shame,  I  see  my  lover  come  to  me. 

So  ch.  ii;  later  on  (vii)  Radha  grows  less  modestly 
shameful : 

8Tukaram  died  in  1649.  The  translations  are  from  Nicol  Mac- 
nicol  in  Hibbert  Journal,  October  1917. 


54  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Now  those  who  were  parted  grow  one  for  ever, 
One  and  whole-hearted;  the  old  endeavor 

To  be  blended  is  gained  at  last; 
Glad  tears  are  raining; 

No  dread  now,  no  plaining, 
Now  doubt  has   passed 
Out  of  each  face,  in  the  close  embrace. 

No  fear  that  hereafter  embracing  is  over, 
No  sorrow  that  causes  torturing  pauses. 
No  grief  to  be  felt  but  fades  and  will  melt 
In  certainty  strong  of  a  joyance  immortal, 
The  rapture  of  meeting,  the  swift  and  sweet  greeting 
Of  life  that  unites  beyond  Time's  dreary  portal. 

This  version  of  Edwin  Arnold  is  not  a  close  translation. 
It  merely  adumbrates  in  a  chaste  Victorian  way  the  lurking 
appeal  of  the  original.  This  appeal  became  the  note  struck 
by  the  earliest  extant  venacular  Bengali  poet  Chandi  Das  of 
the  fourteenth  century,  who  belonged  to  the  Sahajiya  cult 
which  originated  in  Vamacari  Buddhism,9  that  Left-hand  cult 
which  exalts  adultery  and  incest  as  hand-maidens,  so  to  speak, 
of  pure  religion.  To  appreciate  Chandi  Das  and  a  number  of 
later  Bengali  poets  of  this  sort  a  Westerner  must  adopt  some- 
thing of  the  combination  of  faith  and  sensuous  thrill  shown 
at  those  Camp  Meetings  when  delirium  is  caused  by  a  morbid 
religious  eroticism  and  then  add  indecencies  happily  unknown 
to  Western  cults.10  This  rank  growth  is  of  course  modified 
when  the  spirituality  of  these  Bengali  poets  is  exploited  by 
natives  for  the  benefit  of  foreigners.  Thus  Mr.  Romesh  G. 
Dutt  discreetly  presents  Chandi  Das  to  the  West  as  a 
nerveless  sentimentalist  singing  this  ode  to  Krishna: 

9  Compare  for  the  survival  of  Buddhism  in  Bengal,  The  Modern 
Buddhism  and  its  Followers  in  Ovissa,  by  N.  N.  Vasu,  Calcutta, 
1911. 

10  Chandi  Das  made  his  specialty  the  cultivation  of  the  Parakiya 
Rasa,  "intercourse  with  another's  wife,"  as  a  religious  exercise;  but 
he  also  urged  the  common  use  of  women,  as  "  the  greatest  illu- 
sion "  will  be  of  spiritual  edification. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  55 

Oh  how  can  words  my  thoughts  portray, 
Their  longing  and  their  inward  strife? 
In  life,  in  death,  in  life  to  be, 
Be  thou  the  master  of  my  life. 
For  to  thy  feet  my  heart  is  tied; 
Thy  mercy  and  thy  love  I  crave; 
I  offer  all,  my  love,  my  soul, 
To  be  thy  worshipper  and  slave. 

But  the  speaker  is  that  abandoned  female,  Radha, 
Krishna's  mistress,  and  the  Left-hand  cult  portrays  the  union 
of  soul  and  God  in  terms  appropriate  to  one  whose  highest 
religious  activity  is  adultery.  On  much  the  same  lines  the 
Tantra  sums  up  religious  exaltation  in  terms  of  mystical  sex- 
union.  Yet  to  the  native  Oriental  consciousness  all  this  ap- 
parent lubricity  is  an  example  of  "  to  the  pure  all  things  are 
pure."  A  congregation  of  devout,  spiritually  minded  Hindus 
will  listen  enraptured  to  the  images  of  the  Vaishnava  poets 
without  (it  is  said)  a  thought  of  evil,  even  as  the  Christian 
Fathers  wrote  of  their  love  to  God  in  language  tinged  with 
eroticism,  and  it  is  at  least  fair  to  compare,  though  some- 
what remotely,  with  the  Tantra  Mother-cult  and  its  sensual 
excesses  some  phases  of  Gnostic  phallicism  in  connection  with 
the  Mother  and  Savior.  But  Christianity  has  for  the  most 
part  sloughed  off  what  the  Bengali  devotee  still  keeps  as  a 
precious  religious  possession. 

But  it  would  be  a  pity  to  leave  Hindu  mysticism  in  the 
hands  of  those  thus  purely  devoted  to  sex-imagery.  Nor  is 
it  necessary.  Mr.  Macnicol  distinguishes  between  the  sen- 
sual school  of  Vallabha  and  his  followers  and  the  "  hysteri- 
cal "  school  of  Caitanya,  the  mystic  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
whose  love  for  God  is  expressed  in  terms  of  filial  devotion  and 
whose  followers  are  represented  by  the  great  saints  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Their  attitude  is  that  of  helpless  childish 
devotion ;  they  cling  to  the  Mother-idea  of  God  and  lose 
themselves  in  fervid  love  which  indeed  sometimes  expresses 


56  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

itself  sexually,  if  the  expression  may  be  allowed ;  but  it  is  by 
predilection  filial  and  results  in  ecstasis,  in  trance,  and  in 
mystic  "  illumination."  Vivekananda  has  made  us  ac- 
quainted with  the  striking  personality  of  one  of  these, 
Ramakrishna  (who  influenced  Keshub  Chandra  Sen). 
Ramakrishna  (i 833-1 886)  was  proficient  in  Yoga,  but  he 
held  to  the  teaching  of  the  Advaita  Vedanta  or  pure  monism, 
though  perhaps  not  very  strictly.  He  was  a  Bhakta  rather 
than  a  Jfianin,  that  is  a  devotee  rather  than  a  philosopher. 
"  Knowing  God  and  loving  God  are  identical,"  he  said,  but 
again  "  knowledge  enters  only  the  outer  court ;  into  the 
inner  room  of  God  only  a  lover  can  enter."  But  more  im- 
portant still  in  his  teaching  is  this:  "  One  does  not  attain 
to  divine  illumination  till  one  becomes  like  a  child."  His 
life  was  wholly  devoted  to  his  Mother  Kali  (the  goddess), 
whom  he  saw  in  visions.  Such  visions  came  to  him  in  trances 
in  which  he  identified  himself  with  the  divine.  Even  awake, 
as  priest  of  Kali,  he  so  far  identified  himself  with  divinity 
as  to  put  upon  his  own  head  the  flowers  for  her  shrine  and 
take  her  offerings;  till  his  world  regarded  him  as  really 
divine.  His  spiritual  agonies  are  those  of  a  mediaeval  saint. 
Sleepless  and  without  food  he  sought  God  till  "  a  torrent  ot 
spiritual  light  deluged  his  mind  "  and  a  divine  voice  reassured 
him.  He  had  the  same  experiences  as  had  Caitanya,  four 
hundred  years  earlier.  His  Mother  (God)  he  explained  as 
the  omniscient  universal  consciousness,  with  whom  he  re- 
mained "  in  perfect  union  "  for  six  months  unconscious,  or 
only  partly  conscious.  He  identified  himself  at  one  time 
with  Radha,  at  another  with  Rama  and  other  forms  of 
divinity.  He  saw  Jesus  in  a  vision  and  for  three  days  could 
speak  of  nothing  but  Jesus  and  his  love.  These  visions  he 
saw  outside  of  himself,  but  "  when  they  vanished  they  seemed 
to  have  entered  into  him."  Fits  of  God-consciousness  came 
upon  him  and  at  such  times  he  became  a  different  person.  He 
would  speak  of  himself  as  knowing  everything,  able  to  do 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  57 

anything,   and  proclaimed   himself   the  soul  of  Krishna,  of 
Buddha,  of  Jesus,  an  incarnation  of  the  divine.     During  his 
trances  he  suffered  severe  bodily  injuries,  once  by  fire  and 
once  breaking  his  wrist,  without  becoming  aware  of  his  hurt. 
There  is  a  real  but  rather  intangible  difference  between 
the  Caitanya  and  Ramakrishna  school  of  mystic  devotion  and 
that  of  the  erotic  mystics,  such  as  Vallabha.     The  latter,  like 
the  Buddhist  Theras  who  boast  that  they  have  "  vomited 
forth  all  love  and   things  of  beauty  "  and  whose  work  is 
wholly  for  themselves,  are  self-centered ;  they  seek  their  own 
good  or  enjoyment.     Miss  Underbill  distinguishes  mysticism, 
as  that  which  gives,  from  magic,  as  that  which  gets.     The 
distinction  is  well  known   in   India  and  the  better  mystics 
renounce  the  getting  of  gold  and  glory.     Hence  they  refuse 
to  perform  miracles,  though  their  supernatural  powers  may 
make  easy  such  feats  as  standing  in  the  air,  foretelling  events, 
etc.     The  mystic  of  the  type  of  Ramakrishna  seeks  no  gain, 
though  it  is  seldom  that  the  emotional  mystic  of  this  sort  de- 
votes himself,  as  did  Ramakrishna,  to  a  life  of  service.     The 
sensualist,  on  the  other  hand,  religious  or  irreligious,  is  con- 
cerned only  with  self-satisfaction.     No  absolute  school-dif- 
ference is  admitted  or  to  be  expected  in  this  regard,  but 
speaking  generally  we  may  say  that  there  are  these  two  types, 
the  one  full  of  devotion  with  a  sensuous  or  even  a  sensual 
tinge,  the  other  full  of  eroticism  tinged  with  devotion  of  a 
mystic  sort.     But   whether   devoted   and   self-sacrificing  or 
sensual  and  self-seeking,  the  emotional  mystic  of  India  in  one 
fundamental  respect  remains  always  the  same:  he  believes 
himself  to  be,  through  trance  and  vision,  in  possession  of  a 
special  gnosis  whereby  he  intuitively  beholds  and  in  beholding 
becomes  one  with  God.11 

11  Compare  Vivekananda's  history  of  Ramakrishna  in  Max  Mul- 
ler's  Ramakrishna,  His  Life  and  Works,  New  York,  1899;  and  for  a 
general  survey  of  the  subject,  N.  Macnicol,  Indian  Theism  from 
the  Vedic  to  the  Muhammedan  Period,  Religious  Quest  of  India, 


58  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Resume-  Let  us  in  conclusion  glance  back  at  the  kinds 
of  mysticism  we  have  been  examining,  and  see  how  they 
differ.  In  the  oldest  period  the  Upanishad-philosopher 
reaches  through  a  preliminary  course  of  study  a  state  in  which 
he,  whose  general  moral  excellence  is  taken  for  granted,  and 
this  is  true  of  all,  becomes  aware  by  a  final  process  of  dhyana, 
beyond  reason,  of  his  own  identity  with  God,  the  All- 
Soul,  and  this  knowledge  is  bliss,  as  the  knower  thereby  be- 
comes immortal;  he  is,  he  is  incarnate  intelligence,  one  with 
the  cosmic  being-intelligence-bliss,  sac-chit-ananda,  that  des- 
cribes the  otherwise  indescribable  Soul  of  the  Universe. 

In  the  second  class  of  mystics,  the  early  Buddhists,  the  sub- 
ject attains  insight  into  truth,  the  right  relation  of  things, 
through  a  series  of  trances,  at  the  end  of  which  he  obtains, 
with  illumination  or  with  the  heavenly  eye,  a  vision,  some- 
times aided  or  prompted  by  a  vision  of  Buddha,  whereby  in 
a  state  of  rapt  contemplation  he  visualizes,  usually  with 
ecstasy,  by  intuition  and  enters  into  a  state  of  pure  lucidity, 
indescribable.  He  feels  himself  changed,  purged  from  all 
hindrances,  living  a  god-like  life.  To  this  state  he  returns  as 
often  as  he  will ;  it  is  a  methodical,  self-induced  hypnotic  state. 
There  is  no  merging  into  a  world-soul,  no  sense  of  union  with 
any  Divine  Power.  It  is  not  a  perfectly  passive  state ;  intel- 
lect and  will  bring  it  about;  he  becomes  conscious  of  infinite 
space,  of  infinite  consciousness,  and  passes  into  a  state  where 
he  appears  to  lose  all  consciousness,  as  he  goes  on  into  further 
trance-experiences  called  arupajhana.  In  this  stage  he  attains 
to  a  condition  where  he  can  ignore  gravitation  and  opacity 

London,  1915;  L.  D.  Barnett,  The  Heart  of  India,  Wisdom  of  the 
East,  London,  1908;  R.  S.  Dineschandra,  Literature  of  Modern  Ben- 
gal, Calcutta,  1917;  and  for  a  modern  believer's  point  of  view, 
Ananda  Acharya's  Brahmadarsanam  or  Intuition  of  the  Absolute, 
New  York,  1911.  For  Christian  parallels,  see  W.  R.  Inge,  Chris- 
tian  Mysticism,  Oxford,  191 3.  In  Mysticism  and  Logic,  New  York, 
1918,  Bertrand  Russell  has  shown  the  logical  weakness  underlying 
the  mystic's  position. 


MYSTICISM  IN  INDIA  59 

and  can  create  a  double  of  himself ;  but  these  iddhis  belong  to 
all  Yoga  experience. 

Third.  In  the  scientific  Yoga,  apart  from  similar  magic, 
the  mystic  becomes  illumined  by  freeing  himself  as  spirit 
from  matter.  Here  also  there  is  no  union ;  on  the  contrary, 
isolation  is  sought;  and  it  is  found  by  devotion  or  mainly 
by  certain  exercises,  both  giving  intuition  surpassing  reason. 

In  the  fourth  sort  of  mysticism,  the  mystic  obtains  in- 
tuition of  the  world-consciousness  and  of  himself  as  a  part 
of  it. 

Finally,  the  fifth  or  emotional  mystic  discards  philosophy 
for  an  emotional  thrill  of  union  with  the  divine  imaged  as  a 
specific  form  of  divinity. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS 
George  Aaron  Barton 

To  some  it  may  seem  irreverent  to  speak  of  the  mysticism 
of  Jesus  at  all.  Such  may  naturally  say:  "  Jesus  is  one  with 
the  Father.  Mysticism  is  a  form  of  human  religion.  How 
can  he  have  part  or  lot  in  it?"  A  little  reflection  should 
convince  any  in  whose  minds  this  thought  arises  that  the 
objection  that  they  feel  is  not  valid.  If  there  was  in  Jesus 
an  incarnation  of  God,  Jesus  possessed  nevertheless  a  real 
humanity.  His  was  a  human  psychology;  he  shared  our 
human  experiences.  If  this  were  not  so,  the  incarnation 
would  be  unreal.  We  may  then  without  irreverence,  even 
from  the  most  orthodox  point  of  view,  proceed  to  investigate 
the  life  of  Jesus  with  a  view  of  discovering  the  mystical 
elements  in  it. 

What,  however,  do  we  mean  by  mysticism?  Previous 
speakers  in  this  course  have  doubtless  defined  it,  but,  as 
I  have  not  had  the  privilege  of  hearing  their  definitions,  I 
cannot  be  guided  by  them.  In  the  interest  of  clearness, 
therefore,  I  must  tell  you  how  I  shall  use  the  term.  The 
word  "  mysticism  "  has  been  employed  to  denote  all  sorts 
of  abnormal  states  and  abnormal  experiences.  It  accordingly 
suggests  to  many  the  irrational  and  grotesque  in  religion. 
If  this  were  mysticism,  then  it  would  be  necessary  to  say  at 
the  start  that  Jesus  was  no  mystic,  for,  in  spite  of  the 
efforts  of  such  writers  as  De  Loosten,1  Hirsch,2  and  Binet- 

1  Jesus  Christus  vom  Standpunkt  des  Psychiaters,  Bamberg,  1905. 

2  Religion  und  Zivilisation  vom  Standpunkt  des  Psychiaters, 
Munich,  1908. 

60 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  61 

Sangle  3  to  make  out  Jesus  a  paranoiac,  no  more  sane  person- 
ality than  his  appears  in  the  annals  of  mankind. 

11  Mysticism,"  says  Granger,  "  is  that  attitude  of  mind 
which  divines  and  moves  toward  the  spiritual  in  the  common 
things  of  life,  not  a  partial  and  occasional  operation  of  the 
mind  under  the  guidance  of  far-fetched  analogies."  Mysti- 
cism has  also  been  defined  as  a  "  type  of  religion  which  is 
characterized  by  an  immediate  consciousness  of  personal 
relationship  with  the  Divine."  Again  mystics  are  said  to  have 
a  vivid  consciousness  of  the  "  Beyond  " —  one  of  the  vague 
impersonal  terms  by  which  philosophers  like  to  avoid  say- 
ing "  God."  Once  more  mysticism  is  said  to  consist  of  a 
consciousness  that  "  more  than  ourselves  is  impinging  on  the 
skirts  of  our  being."  If  these  definitions  of  mysticism  are 
true,  we  should  expect  to  find  in  Jesus  the  supreme  mystic, 
for  it  would  be  difficult  to  find  another  whose  mind  moved 
as  unswervingly  as  his  "  toward  the  spiritual  in.  the  common 
things  of  life,"  not  partially  and  occasionally,  but  as  con- 
tinually and  steadily  as  the  needle  points  to  the  pole.  Jesus 
called  the  "  Beyond  " — "  the  more  than  ourselves  that  im- 
pinges on  the  skirts  of  our  being  " — "  Father,"  and  it  is  a 
truth  concerning  him,  though  it  has  become  a  commonplace 
to  say  it,  that  his  consciousness  of  immediate  communion 
with  the  Father  surpassed  that  of  other  men.  It  was  the 
atmosphere  of  his  life;  the  inspiration  of  all  his  efforts;  his 
refreshment  when  weary.  These,  however,  are  statements 
proof  of  which  will  be  submitted  below. 

Before  taking  up  that  proof,  it  is  necessary  to  say  a  word 
concerning  the  sources  of  our  knowledge  of  Jesus.  In  speak- 
ing to  a  group  of  well-trained  theological  students,  it  is  unnec- 
essary to  take  time  to  explain  why  one  does  not  employ  the 
Gospel  of  John  as  a  source.  It  is  a  later  interpretation  of 
the  nature  of  Jesus,  not  an  authentic  biography  of  him.     As 

3  La    folie    de    Jesus,    Paris,    1910,    191 1.     Per    contra,    see,    A. 
Schweitzer,  Expositor,  Ser.  8,  vol.  vi,  328  fF.,  439  ff.,   554  ff. 


62  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

one  of  the  first  great  theological  interpretations  of  him,  it 
is  magnificent,  but  the  Jesus  depicted  here  moves  across  the 
pages,  not  as  one  who  shares  the  pains  and  mystical  inspira- 
tions of  our  humanity,  but  as  a  heavenly  Being  from  another 
sphere.     This  is  true,  even  if  we  recognize,  as  the  writer 
does,  that  in  some  respects  the  Fourth  Gospel  reflects  the 
mind    and   spirit  of   Jesus   better   than   the   Synoptics.     Its 
author's  exalted  conception  of  the  deity  of  Christ  blinded 
his  eyes  to  the  mystical  experiences  which  the  Master  shared 
with  humanity.     The  sources  of  information  for  our  subject 
are,  accordingly,  the  Synoptic  Gospels.     The  Synoptic  Gos- 
pels, however,  themselves  rest  upon  sources,  and  concerning 
these  sources  there  are  contending  theories.     According  to 
the  most  widely  accepted  theory  two  main  sources  underlie 
Matthew  and  Luke.     They  are  Mark  (or  an  Ur-Marcus) 
and  Q.     According  to  Professor  Burton's  theory,  which  ap- 
peals more  to  me,  there  are  five  sources,  Mark,  the  Logia  of 
Matthew,    a   Galilean   document,    and   two   Peraean   docu- 
ments.    The  question  of  analysis,  however,  will  not  seriously 
affect  our  discussion.     Whichever  of  the  two  views  of  the 
sources  one  holds,  most  of  the  passages  that  come  into  con- 
sideration   in    estimating    the    mysticism    of    Jesus    can    be 
traced  back  to  a  very  early  date.     This  is  especially  true, 
if  one  admits,  as  I  am  compelled  to  do,  that  the  arguments 
of   Harnack  and  Torrey  by  which   the  date  of   the  Book 
of  Acts  is  pushed  back  to  63  a.  d.  are  valid.     In  that  case 
the  Gospel  of  Luke  cannot  have  been  written  later  than 
60-61  A.  d.,  and  the  Gospel  of  Mark  and  the  other  sources 
would  be  still  earlier.4 

Bearing  these  remarks  in  mind,  let  us  see  what  our  sources 
have  to  say  of  the  mysticism  of  Jesus.  The  earliest  indica- 
tion of  a  mystical  tendency  in  Jesus  comes  to  us  from  the 
"infancy"    narrative   of   Luke  —  a   source   outside   all   the 

4  This  early  date  of  the  Synoptic  Gospels  has  not  yet  been  gen- 
erally accepted  by  New  Testament  scholars. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  63 

main  documents  enumerated  above.  If  the  Gospel  was  writ- 
ten not  later  than  the  early  part  of  61  a.  d.,  the  document 
must  have  been  composed  not  more  than  thirty  years  from 
the  crucifixion.  The  event  narrated  is  said,  however,  to 
have  occurred  when  Jesus  was  twelve  years  old.  The  evi- 
dence for  it  cannot,  therefore,  be  called  contemporary. 
There  is  about  the  narrative,  nevertheless,  a  verisimilitude, 
an  appropriateness,  a  consonance  with  the  later  habits  and 
character  of  Jesus,  that  lead  one  to  accord  it  a  high  degree 
of  credibility.  I  refer,  of  course,  to  the  words  of  Jesus 
uttered  when  his  parents,  finding  him  in  the  Temple,  re- 
proved him  for  having  stayed  behind  alone  in  Jerusalem, 
when  they  set  out  for  home.  "  Did  you  not  know,"  said 
Jesus,  "  that  I  must  be  in  the  things  of  my  Father?  "  You 
do  not  need  to  be  reminded  that  interpreters  differ  as  to 
the  meaning  of  his  words.  Some  take  "  in  the  things  of  my 
Father  "  to  refer  to  the  Temple,  and  so  understand  the  boy 
to  say  in  substance:  "  It  is  strange  that  you  should  be  at 
a  loss  where  to  look  for  me!  Did  you  not  know  that  I 
would  be  in  my  Father's  house?  "  According  to  this  inter- 
pretation, the  mystical  feeling  of  the  youthful  Jesus  is  very 
manifest.  Not  many  boys  of  twelve  have  been  so  conscious 
of  the  Fatherhood  of  God  as  to  linger  joyfully  in  temple  or 
church  after  the  family  have  gone  home  from  sheer  glad- 
ness to  be  in  the  Father's  house!  The  more  familiar  inter- 
pretation of  the  phrase  is,  however,  conveyed  in  the  rendering 
of  the  Authorized  Version:  "Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be 
about  my  Father's  business?"  If  this  be  the  meaning,  the 
words  are  still  witness  to  a  unique  mysticism  on  the  part 
of  the  youthful  Jesus,  for  his  words  betray  an  "  attitude  of 
mind  which  divines  and  moves  towards  the  spiritual."  The 
joy  of  the  spiritual  fascinated  him,  and  so  absorbed  his 
thought  that  he  remained  behind  in  the  Temple  with 
strangers. 

If  any  doubt  attaches  to  the  historicity  of  the  narrative 


64  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

just  considered,  none  whatever  attaches  to  the  account  of 
the  baptism  of  Jesus.  It  forms  a  part  of  the  Gospel  of 
Mark,  one  of  our  earliest  sources,  and  was  regarded  as  so 
important  that  each  of  the  other  Gospels  repeated  it.  It 
forms  a  part  of  what  Professor  Bacon  twenty  years  ago  hap- 
pily denominated  the  autobiography  of  Jesus.5  I  am  not 
sure  but  that  Bacon  has  since  changed  his  mind  about  the 
matter,  but,  even  if  he  has,  in  my  judgment  his  cogent  argu- 
ment stands.  At  the  time  that  Jesus  drew  forth  from  Peter, 
in  the  retirement  at  Cassarea  Philippi,  the  confession  "  Thou 
art  the  Christ,"  Jesus  himself  drew  aside  for  a  little  the 
veil  of  his  inner  life  and  recounted  enough  of  his  experience 
at  the  Baptism  and  Temptation,  so  that  they  could  under- 
stand on  what,  in  his  own  soul,  the  Messianic  claim  rested. 
The  account  of  the  Baptism  and  Temptation  is  then  autobi- 
ographical material.  According  to  the  earliest  form  of  this 
narrative: 

"  Straightway  coming  up  out  of  the  water,  he  saw  the  heavens 
rent  asunder,  and  the  Spirit  as  a  dove  descending  upon  him:  and  a 
voice  came  out  of  the  heavens,  '  Thou  art  my  beloved  Son,  in  thee 
I  am  well  pleased.' " 

These  words  clearly  record  an  experience  of  Jesus.6  It 
was  Jesus  who  saw  the  Spirit  descending;  it  was  Jesus  who 
heard  the  voice  saying:  "Thou  art  my  beloved  Son."  Af- 
ter the  manner  of  Oriental  speech,  the  language  clearly  de- 
scribes in  objective  terms  an  experience  in  the  soul  of  Jesus. 
This  experience,  was,  however,  so  intense  that  Jesus  heard 
the  voice  speaking.  Writers  on  mysticism  tell  us  that,  "  In 
many  instances,  especially  with  persons  of  peculiar  psychical 

5 "  The  Autobiography  of  Jesus,"  in  the  American  Journal  of 
Theology,  II,  1898,  pp.  527-560. 

c  The  labored  argument  of  writers  like  Nathaniel  Schmidt, 
Prophet  of  Nazareth,  New  York,  1905,  p.  262  ff.,  by  which  it  is  at- 
tempted to  show  that  all  this  material  is  invention,  is  peculiarly 
unconvincing. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  65 

disposition,  the  mystical  experience  is  attended  with  unusual 
phenomena,  such  as  automatic  voices  or  visions,  profound 
body  changes,  swoons,  or  ecstasies.  These  physical  phenom- 
ena are,  however,  only  the  more  intense  and  excessive  res- 
onances and  reverberations  which  in  milder  degree  accompany 
all  psychical  processes."  7 

From  the  point  of  view  of  healthy-minded  experts  on 
mysticism  this  passage  in  Mark  records  a  great  mystical 
experience  of  Jesus.  It  marked  the  point  when  his  earlier 
profound  but  not  fully  developed  consciousness  of  intimate 
relations  with  that  Great  Beyond  that  we  call  God  reached 
an  epoch-making  point  in  its  development,  and  he  realized 
that  he  was  in  a  unique  sense  the  Son  of  God,  and  that, 
whatever  the  real  content  of  the  Messianic  expectations  of 
the  seers  of  his  race  might  be,  it  was  his  mission  to  fulfill  them. 
When  one  pictures  to  himself  what  such  Messianic  expecta- 
tions as  those  set  forth  in  the  Enoch  Parables  (Enoch,  chap- 
ters 46  and  48)  meant  to  the  devout  Jew,  what  visions  of 
exalted  destiny,  of  preexistence,  and  of  future  mission  they 
must  have  evoked  —  when,  also,  one  considers  what  the  fine 
and  sensitive  psychical  organization  of  Jesus  must  have  been, 
one  realizes  a  little  the  intensity  of  the  experience  that  was 
his  at  the  moment  of  his  baptism.  No  wonder  that  his  eye 
seemed  to  see  a  vision,  and  his  ear  to  hear  a  voice! 

For  the  events  which  followed,  we  still  have  the  authority 
of  the  autobiography,  for  the  account  of  the  Temptation  is 
a  part  of  the  autobiography.  The  narrative  of  the  Tempta- 
tion formed,  according  to  one  school  of  critics,  a  part  of 
the  document  Q;  according  to  another,  a  part  of  G,  or  the 
Galilean  document.  In  either  case  it  was  a  part  of  an 
evangel  which  was  composed  but  little,  if  any,  later  than  the 
Gospel  of  Mark,  and  its  historical  value  is  as  good. 

It  has  been  assumed  above  that  the  unique  sonship  of  God 
of  which  Jesus  became  conscious  at  the  Baptism  carried  with 

7  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  IX,  1917*  P*  84. 


66  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

it  a  realization  that  he  was  the  Messiah.  This  is  conceded 
by  most  writers  on  the  subject,8  for  it  was  in  accord  with 
Old  Testament  usage.  In  the  Old  Testament  the  king  was 
the  Messiah,  the  Anointed  one,  and  the  king  is  several  times 
called  "  son  of  God  "-;  cf.  2  Sam.  7:  14;  Ps.  82:  6.  While 
the  statement  of  Sanday  is  no  doubt  true,  that  for  Jesus  the 
term  is  far  from  being  exhausted  by  the  holding  of  a  certain 
office,  or  the  fulfilling  of  certain  functions,  such  as  those  of 
the  Messiah  —  that  it  means  for  him  the  perfection  of 
sonship  in  relation  to  God  —  it  doubtless  included  the 
Messiahship,  and  at  the  moment  of  the  experience  the  func- 
tions of  the  Messiahship  appear  to  have  been  uppermost  in 
the  thought  of  Jesus.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  ad- 
just himself  to  these  hoary  expectations  of  the  Jewish  people 
before  he  could  center  his  thought  upon  the  other  far-reaching 
implications  of  the  term. 

For  this  purpose  he  withdrew  alone  into  the  wilderness  to 
think.  At  first  his  thoughts  were  so  absorbing  that  he  forgot 
entirely  the  demands  of  the  body.  From  this  intense  reverie 
he  was  at  last  awakened  by  the  rude  pangs  of  hunger.  At 
first  the  fact  that  he  could  still  hunger  startled  him.  Apoc- 
alyptists  had  pictured  the  Messianic  age  as  a  time  of  unimag- 
inable material  plenty.  It  was  to  be  inaugurated  by  a  great 
feast.  Could  he  who,  alone  in  a  barren  wilderness,  was 
famishing  without  even  a  scrap  of  food  really  be  the  Messiah? 
Such  was  the  meaning  of  the  first  temptation.  Then  came 
the  suggestion,  "  Command  this  stone  that  it  become  bread." 
Every  wilderness  in  Palestine  is  full  of  stones.  The  Messiah 
was  a  heavenly  being.  The  age  in  which  Jesus  lived  believed 
that  every  real  prophet,  even,  could  work  miracles.  Natural 
laws  were  hardly  known;  men  lived  in  an  Arabian-Nights 

8  Cf.  N.  Schmidt,  "Son  of  God,"  Encyclopedia  Biblica;  W.  San- 
day, "  Son  of  God  in  Hastings'  Dictionary  of  the  Bible;  J.  Stalker, 
"Son  of  God"  in  Hastings'  Dictionary  of  Christ  and  the  Gospels; 
B.  W.  Bacon,  Jesus  The  Son  of  God,  New  Haven,  1911,  p.  29  ff. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  67 

world.  The  suggestion  was  most  natural.  With  this  in- 
sight into  the  heart  of  things  that  characterizes  Jesus  always, 
he  repelled  this  suggestion.  His  mind  reverted  to  the  state- 
ment of  Deut.  8:3:  "  Man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone, 
but  by  everything  that  proceedeth  out  of  the  mouth  of 
Yahweh."  In  other  words  Jesus  centered  his  thought  in 
this  initial  meditation  upon  his  Messianic  mission,  not  on 
material  things  —  bread,  feasts,  material  miracles  —  but  upon 
the  fact  that  real  sonship  consists  in  doing  the  will  of  God. 
The  Messiahship,  as  he  viewed  it,  consisted,  not  in  mirac- 
ulously escaping  the  common  lot,  but  in  doing  the  will  of 
God.  The  Messianic  mission  was  not  to  enable  men  to 
escape  the  common  lot  by  living  in  a  world  where  "  on  one 
vine  would  be  a  thousand  branches,  and  each  branch  would 
produce  a  thousand  clusters,  and  each  cluster  would  produce 
a  thousand  grapes,  and  each  grape  would  produce  a  cor  of 
wine,"  9  but  to  enable  them  to  do  the  will  of  God  in  the 
world  of  perplexity,  difficulty,  and  struggle  in  which  they 
now  live. 

When  these  thoughts  had  passed  through  the  mind  of 
Jesus,  there  was  presented  to  him,  according  to  the  Gospel 
of  Luke  (I  believe  the  order  of  the  Temptations  in  Luke 
is  the  true  psychological  order) ,  a  further  problem  as  to  the 
kind  of  Messiah  he  would  be.  According  to  the  Messianic 
expectations  of  his  race,  the  Messiah  was  to  rule  a  world- 
wide domain.  Before  the  mind's  eye  of  Jesus  the  kingdoms 
of  the  world  passed  in  review.  The  graphic  language  of 
the  Gospel  represents  the  devil  as  saying  to  him:  "  To  thee 
will  I  give  all  this  authority  and  the  glory  of  them:  for  it 
hath  been  delivered  unto  me;  and  to  whomsoever  I  will  I 
give  it.  If  thou  therefore  wilt  worship  before  me,  it  shall 
be  thine."  What  does  this  language  mean?  We  shall  not,  I 
believe,  go  far  astray,  if  we  understand  it  to  mean  that  the 
temptation  was  presented  to  Jesus  to  proclaim  himself  the 

9  Apocalypse  of  Baruch,  29 :  5. 


68  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

kind  of  Messiah  the  Jews  were  expecting,  and  to  seek  world- 
dominion  by  force  of  arms.  The  ancient  world  had  been  for 
centuries  a  scene  of  slaughter  and  plunder.  There  were  no 
international  ethics.  However  much  some  Babylonian  and 
Egyptian  kings  may  have  sought  to  establish  justice  within 
their  own  borders,  the  invasion  and  plunder,  the  subjugation 
and  pillage  of  other  countries  had  been  a  praiseworthy  pro- 
cedure for  every  monarch  whose  energy  demanded  an  outlet. 
To  some,  such  pillage  had  been  a  regular  trade.  The  cruel- 
ties practiced  on  such  raids  were  limited  only  by  the  fertility 
of  the  imaginations  of  the  conquerors  and  the  scientific  knowl- 
edge at  their  disposal.  Force  had  ruled.  Might  made  right. 
All  the  great  empires  had  been  built  up  on  this  basis.  What 
that  means  for  mankind,  the  Germans  have,  in  these  past 
yeara,  made  us  vividly  to  realize.  For  his  Messianic  king- 
dom, the  Jew  had  conceived  no  other  basis  than  force. 
Such  justice  as  it  would  mete  out  was  probably  in  his 
thought  usually  limited  to  members  of  his  own  race.  Was 
this  the  kind  of  kingdom  for  Jesus  to  establish?  He  knew 
that  thousands  of  Jews  would  gladly  rally  to  his  standard, 
if  he  would  but  unfurl  the  banner  of  the  Messiah,  and  that 
they  would  shed  their  last  drop  of  blood  to  win  world-em- 
pire. This  was  the  natural,  the  easy  way.  Along  this  path 
lay  popularity,  glory,  and  revenge  upon  century-old  enemies. 
The  vision  tempted  even  Jesus  for  one  brief  moment,  then 
he  put  it  aside.  Such  unethical  employment  of  force  would 
be  serving  Satan.  It  could  establish  no  kingdom  of  God. 
At  the  best  it  would  but  gain  the  mastery  over  the  bodies 
of  men,  while  every  soul  worthy  of  the  name  would  seethe 
with  hatred  and  rebellion.  "  Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord 
thy  God  and  him  only  thou  shalt  serve,"  was  the  thought  that 
prevailed  in  his  mind.  That  is,  Thou  shalt  love  and  rever- 
ence justice,  kindness,  unselfishness,  or  rather  the  One  who 
embodies  all  these.  Thou  shalt  give  thy  life  to  establish 
kindness,   fairness,  unselfishness,  and   love   in   the  hearts  of 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  69 

men.  Thou  shalt  be  a  Messiah  to  establish  a  spiritual  king- 
dom, in  which  the  souls  of  men  shall  be  attached  to  their 
sovereign  by  the  adamantine  chains  of  affection,  not  by  force 
of  arms.  It  shall  be  a  little  heaven  of  peace;  not  a  hell  of 
hatred  and  intrigue. 

This  choice  on  the  part  of  Jesus  banished  the  possibility  of 
a  career  of  outward  glory,  and  imposed  upon  him  the  humbler 
role  of  an  ethical  teacher.  We  can  now  see  that  ultimately 
it  involved  the  choice  of  the  cross,  though  there  is  some  reason 
to  think  that  the  cross  was  not  then  consciously  present  to 
the  mind  of  Jesus. 

The  last  of  the  temptations  of  Jesus  —  the  temptation  to 
cast  himself  down  from  a  pinnacle  or  wing  of  the  Temple  — 
has  been  considered  by  some  scholars  as  too  fantastic  to  be 
historical.  Grant  if  you  please,  that  the  form  in  which  it  is 
stated  seems  fantastic  to  us,  the  temptation  was,  if  we  are 
not  mistaken,  a  very  natural  one,  and  the  most  subtle  of  all. 
Half  of  the  pleasure  of  holding  a  prominent  position  is,  to 
most  men,  the  fact  that  their  fellows  know  it  and  honor  one 
for  it.  Closely  interwoven  with  the  Messianic  expectations 
was  the  conception  that  men  would  honor  the  Messiah  and 
stand  in  awe  of  him.  He  was  to  come  on  the  clouds 
of  heaven;  every  eye  was  to  see  him.  The  choice  that 
Jesus  had  just  made  put  all  that  behind  him,  but,  if  we 
may  believe  the  record,  Jesus  was  human  enough  so  that 
for  one  brief  moment  human  admiration  and  applause 
made  an  appeal  even  to  him.  Might  he  not,  after  all,  do 
something  spectacular,  that  would  give  God  an  opportunity 
publicly  to  show  in  a  miraculous  way  that  Jesus  was  his 
Son,  so  that  men  might  marvel,  stand  in  awe,  and  do  rever- 
ence? This  is  what  the  temptation  really  means.  Jesus, 
however,  repelled  the  thought  with  another,  again  taken 
from  Deuteronomy,  "  Thou  shalt  not  tempt  (or  make  trial 
of)  the  Lord  thy  God."  The  appropriateness  of  this  Deu- 
teronomic  quotation  may  not  at  first  be  obvious  to  every 


70  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

reader.  Its  aptness  lies  in  the  fact  that  to  go  into  unneces- 
sary danger  that  God  might  deliver  him  was  really  to  create 
an  artificial  situation  to  put  God  to  the  test.  Some  of  us 
have  known  people  who  were  always  putting  our  friendship 
to  the  test  by  such  means.  For  example,  in  walking  with 
us  they  may  drop  behind  to  see  whether  we  care  enough  for 
them  to  stop  and  wait.  They  are  always  creating  artificial 
situations  in  order  to  put  our  friendship  or  love  to  the  test. 
They  are  constantly  putting  us  to  trial,  or,  in  the  good  old 
English  meaning  of  the  word,  "  tempting  "  us.  The  main- 
spring of  all  such  conduct  lies  in  part  in  an  exaggerated 
self-consciousness,  and  in  part  in  lurking  doubts  of  one's 
friends.  When  for  one  brief  moment  the  desire  for  spectac- 
ular fame  and  applause  tempted  Jesus,  he  repelled  the  thought 
by  a  recognition  of  its  real  character.  He  did  not  doubt 
God;  he  would  not  put  God  to  the  test.  He  would  take 
the  prosaic,  even  the  tragic  path  of  humble  duty,  and  leave 
God  to  vindicate  his  choice  to  men  in  his  own  time  and  way. 
Thus  his  mystic  insight  into  the  nature  of  God  and  his  com- 
munion with  him  led  him  to  an  appreciation  of  values  that 
would  make  uniquely  appropriate  to  him  the  words  of  Alex- 
ander Smith: 

I've   learned   to   prize  the   quiet  lightning-deed, 
Not  the  applauding  thunder  at  its  heels, 
Which  men  call   Fame. 

I  have  dwelt  thus  long  on  the  experience  of  Jesus  at  his 
Baptism  and  Temptation,  because  it  illustrates  most  clearly 
the  reality  of  his  mystic  experience,  and  also  the  fundamental 
way  in  which  inrushes  of  conscious  correspondence  with  the 
11  Beyond  "  shaped  the  course  of  his  choices,  his  ministry,  and 
his  teaching. 

Such  an  interpretation  of  these  narratives  is,  for  our  time, 
analogous  to  that  which,  for  his  time,  St.  Paul  made.  In 
Phil.  2:5-11  he  makes  a  running  comparison  between  the 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  71 

temptation  of  Adam  and  the  Temptation  of  Christ.  Adam, 
made  in  the  image  of  God,  was  tempted  to  become  like  God, 
yielded  to  the  temptation,  and  lost  his  Eden.  Jesus,  being 
in  the  form  of  God,  says  St.  Paul,  "  counted  not  the  being  on 
an  equality  with  God  a  thing  to  be  grasped,"  but  .  .  . 
"  humbled  himself,  becoming  obedient  unto  death."  .  .  . 
"  Wherefore  also  God  highly  exalted  him  and  gave  unto  him 
the  name  that  is  above  every  name."  This  last  statement  is 
more  bold  than  a  modern  theologian  would  dare  to  make. 
It  implies,  when  the  Jewish  language  of  Paul  is  put  into 
modern  phrase,  that  Jesus,  in  consequence  of  the  choices  made 
at  the  time  of  the  Temptation,  under  the  illumination  of  his 
mystic  experience,  won  his  deity.  It  is  well  known  that  in 
Jewish  thought  the  name  summed  up  the  attributes  of  deity.10 

In  telling  his  disciples  of  his  experiences  at  the  Baptism 
and  during  the  Temptation  Jesus  drew  aside  the  veil  from 
his  inner  life  to  an  unusual  degree.  Ordinarily  during  his 
ministry  he  was  too  intent  on  making  the  Father  known  to 
men  to  speak  of  himself.  Nevertheless  there  are  two  or  three 
occasions  on  record  during  his  later  ministry  when  we  can 
detect  the  evidences  of  mystic  experience. 

Before  speaking  of  these,  we  should  pause  to  note  Jesus' 
habit  of  prayer.  On  two  occasions  after  days  of  exhausting 
work  with  multitudes  —  one  in  Capernaum,  when  Simon's 
mother-in-law  was  healed;  the  other  after  the  five  thousand 
were  fed  —  we  find  Jesus  withdrawing  to  a  solitude  to  pray. 
(Cf.  Mark  1 :  35  ;  6:46;  Matt.  14:  23;  Luke  5:  16;  6:  12.) 
During  the  labor  of  ministry  he  had  apparently  depleted, 
so  he  felt,  his  spiritual  resources,  and  consequently  sought 
opportunity  to  be  alone  with  the  Father,  that,  by  mystic 
communion,  the  fountains  of  energy  might  be  replenished. 

Another  definite  occasion,  in  the  account  of  which  we  can 
detect  the  marks  of  mystical  experience  on  the  part  of  Jesus, 

10  See  Lev.  24:11  and  the  Talmud  passim. 


72  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

was  the  Transfiguration.  The  accounts  of  the  Transfigura- 
tion are,  as  we  have  them,  a  mixture  of  what  Jesus  expe- 
rienced, what  the  disciples  saw,  and  the  inferences  which 
they  made  from  what  they  saw.  Probably  those  inferences 
led  them  to  heighten  in  some  respects  what  they  actually  be- 
held, as  memory  placed  their  vision  in  new  perspective. 

The  occasion  was  a  crisis  in  the  ministry  of  Jesus.  After 
months  of  association  with  his  disciples  as  a  great  Teacher, 
during  which  he  had  called  himself  the  Son  of  Man,  a  term 
which  concealed  his  Messianic  claim,  while  it  had  in  it 
also  the  potentialities  of  revealing  it,  he  retired  with  the 
disciples  to  Cassarea  Philippi  in  order  that,  withdrawn  from 
the  crowds,  he  might  prepare  them  for  the  future.  There 
he  drew  from  Peter  the  confession:  "Thou  art  the  Mes- 
siah," commended  Peter  for  his  insight,  and  later  rebuked 
him  for  his  stupidity  and  presumption.  It  was  after  this,  as 
he  contemplated  going  to  Jerusalem  to  certain  death,  that 
he  took  Peter,  James,  and  John  and  went  up  into  a  mountain 
to  pray.  As  the  disciples  gazed  and  as  he  was  praying  "  the 
fashion  of  his  countenance  was  altered,"  says  Luke. 
Matthew  heightens  the  statement  declaring:  "  His  face  did 
shine  as  the  sun."  This  has  the  marks  of  a  mystical  expe- 
rience. "  Prayer  of  illumination,  altered  face,  changed 
form,  glorified  figure,  radiation  of  light,  have  marked  many 
mystics."  1X  For  the  Master  himself  we  may  infer,  then, 
that  the  prayer  involved  a  mystic  experience.  The  outward 
manifestation  of  this  experience  was  visible  to  the  disciples. 

But  what  of  the  other  features  of  the  narrative  —  the  ap- 
pearance of  Moses  and  Elijah?  It  has  long  seemed  to  the 
writer  that  this  part  of  the  account  represents  a  psychologi- 
cal experience  on  the  pait  of  the  disciples.  They  had  but 
recently  recognized  his  Messiahship,  and  they  are  now  led 
in  their  thought  to  associate  him  with  Moses  and  Elijah, 
the  two  great  heroes  of  their  national  history.     Perhaps  their 

11  Encyclopaedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  IX,  89  b. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  73 

thought  was  helped  to  this  by  the  transfigured  appearance 
of  his  face,  which  suggested  the  shining  of  the  face  of  Moses 
as  he  came  down  from  the  mountain  (cf.  Ex.  34:29-35). 
Thus  they  put  Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  in  thinking  of  him, 
in  proper  perspective.  It  seems  probable  that  in  thinking 
of  him  in  this  new  perspective  they  gradually  extended  the 
shining  of  his  face  till  they  thought  of  his  garments  as 
shining  also.  Even  if  it  be  true  that  the  narrative  now  con- 
tains in  part  a  psychological  experience  of  the  disciples,  it 
also  contains  a  historical  mystical  experience  of  Jesus. 

Another  saying  of  Jesus,  that  in  Matt.  1 1 :  25-27,  points 
to  a  mystical  experience.  As  the  text  stands  it  indicates  that 
at  a  definite  point  of  time  Jesus  realized  the  functions  of  a 
revealer  of  God  to  men  which  his  sonship  imposed  upon  him. 
This  point  of  time  apparently  lay  between  the  Temptation 
and  the  Transfiguration.     The  passage  runs: 

"  At  that  season  Jesus  answered  and  said,  I  thank  thee,  O 
Father,  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  that  thou  didst  hide  these  things 
from  the  wise  and  understanding,  and  didst  reveal  them  unto  babes: 
yea,  Father,  for  so  it  was  well-pleasing  in  thy  sight.  All  things 
have  been  delivered  unto  me  of  my  Father:  and  no  man  knoweth 
the  Son  save  the  Father;  neither  doth  any  man  know  the  Father, 
save  the  Son,  and  he  to  whomsoever  the  Son  willeth  to  reveal  him." 

You  will  remember  that  following  these  words  is  Jesus' 
invitation  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor.  .  .  .  Take  my 
yoke  upon  you." 

This  passage  has  been  a  sort  of  storm-center  of  discussion 
in  recent  years.  It  is  the  only  passage  in  the  Synoptic  nar- 
ratives in  which  the  Father  and  Son  are  contrasted  in  a 
manner  somewhat  like  that  of  the  Fourth  Gospel.  Of 
course  to  writers  of  the  point  of  view  of  Nathaniel  Schmidt 
the  passage  is  unhistorical.12  They  cannot  conceive  Jesus  as 
entertaining  a  conception  of   God's   Fatherhood   or   of  his 

12  Cf.  Prophet  of  Nazareth,  New  York,  p.  151  ff. 


74  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

own  Sonship  that  was  at  all  unique.  Notwithstanding  the 
doubts  of  such  writers,  the  attestation  of  the  passage  proves 
it  to  have  been  a  part  of  one  of  the  early  pre-synoptic  sources. 
At  least  that  is  true  of  verses  25-27.  According  to  Burton's 
school  of  criticism  13  this  passage  formed  a  part  of  the  first 
Perean  Document;  according  to  the  prevailing  school,  it 
was  a  logion  from  Q,  a  source  as  old  as  or  older  than  the 
substratum  of  Mark.  Harnack  has  subjected  the  text  to  a 
searching  analysis,14  and  recognizes  that  it  wTas  a  genuine 
part  of  Q  except  the  words  which  place  the  Son  and  Father 
in  a  unique  relation  to  each  other.  These  were,  he  thinks, 
due  to  the  compiler  of  our  first  Gospel, —  an  opinion  the 
arguments  for  which  do  not  seem  convincing.  Since  the 
Logion  occurs  in  Luke  10:21,  22,  and  there  includes  these 
words,  it  is  but  fair  to  assume  that  they  were  a  part  of  Q  or 
of  P',  or  of  the  early  document,  by  whatever  name  we  call 
it.  Any  doubt  as  to  this  is  purely  subjective  and  not  sup- 
ported by  external  evidence. 

But  even  if  the  saying  occurred  in  Q  (or  P')  this,  in  the 
minds  of  many,  does  not  prove  that  these  words  come  from 
Jesus.  Allen  in  the  International  Critical  Commentary 
claims  that  there  is  an  undoubted  dependence  of  the  words 
in  Matt.  11 :  25-30  on  Ecclus.  51,  and  gives  a  list  of  phrases 
that  occur  in  both  texts  that  is  very  striking.15  He  was  not 
the  first  to  note  this,  and  others  have  made  much  more  of  it 
than  he.  Loisy  and  Montefiore  erect  upon  this  basis,  forti- 
fied by  some  other  parallels  from  the  Synoptics,  the  theory 
that  these  are  not  words  of  Jesus  at  all,  but  a  sort  of  early 
Christian  hymn,  in  which  Jesus  is  exalted  by  identifying  him 
with   the  eternal  Wisdom,  who   alone  knows  God  fully.16 

13  Cf.  D.  R.  Wickes,  The  Sources  of  Luke's  Perean  Section,  Chi- 
cago, 1912,  p.  67  f. 

llSpruc/ie  und  Reden  Jesu,  Leipsig,  1907,  p.  18  f.,  200-216. 

15  Commentary  on  Matthew,  New  York,  1907,  p.  124. 

16  Cf.  A.  Loisy,  Les  evangiles  synoptiques,  Paris,  1907,  p.  91,  n.  3, 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  75 

It  must  be  said,  however,  that  possible  as  this  view  appears,  it 
does  not  impress  one  who  puts  Matt.  1 1 :  25-30  and  Ecclus. 
51  side  by  side  and  reads  them  in  connection.  Sirach 's 
thanksgiving  and  praise  to  God  are  in  a  vein  so  different  from 
the  words  of  Jesus  under  consideration,  that  it  can  only  be 
said  that,  if  the  logion  in  Matthew  consciously  quotes  his 
words,  the  quotation  was  made  by  a  genius  so  much  greater 
than  Sirach  that  he  created  a  new  and  much  more  beautiful 
whole.  To  the  question  of  the  identification  of  Jesus  with 
the  Divine  Wisdom  we  shall  return  in  a  moment. 

It  is  not  so  certain,  however,  that  Ben  Sirach  furnished  the 
intellectual  ancestry  of  the  passage.  Pfleiderer  had  regarded 
it  as  an  adumbration  of  Paulineism,  believing  it  to  have  been 
suggested  by  I  Cor.  15 :  25-27.17  Bacon,  on  the  other  hand, 
finds  the  literary  ancestry  of  the  passage  in  Isaiah  29 :  9- 
24.18  These  opinions  indicate  that  there  are  many  possi- 
bilities, if  literary  ancestry  is  to  be  traced. 

If,  however,  the  passage  is  from  Q  (or  P')  the  ques- 
tion remains  to  be  determined  whether  it  represents  the 
words  of  Jesus  or  is  a  free  composition  of  the  author  of  the 
document.  Wellhausen  holds  the  words  "  no  man  knoweth 
the  Father  but  the  Son  "  to  be  an  interpolation 19  —  ap- 
parently made  by  the  author  of  the  document.  It  must  be 
said,  however,  that  if  the  words  are  a  part  of  Q  (or  P') 
and  if  we  are  compelled  to  push  back  the  date  of  the  Synoptic 
Gospels  to  the  time  indicated  above,  the  document  must  have 
been  composed  within  a  decade  or  two  of  the  Crucifixion. 
If  there  is  any  relation  between  this  logion  and  Paul,  Paul 
might  more  easily  be  dependent  on  the  document  than  the 
document  on  him.  Suppose  one  were  to  grant  that  in  the 
logion  the  Son  is  conceived  somewhat  after  the  manner  of 

and  The  Gospel  and  the  Church,  New  York,  1909,  pp.  93-96,  and 
Montefiore,  The  Synoptic  Gospels,  London,  1909,  p.  606. 

17  Unchristentum,  Berlin,  1888,  p.  445. 

18  Jesus  the  Son  of  God,  New  Haven,  1911,  pp.  7.  8. 

19  Das  Evangelium  Matthaei,  Berlin,  1904,  p.  57  f. 


76  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

the  Divine  Wisdom  in  later  pre-Christian  Judaism,  there 
is  abundant  evidence  that  these  conceptions  were  as  accessi- 
ble in  the  third  and  fourth  decades  of  the  first  century  as  in 
the  seventh  or  the  ninth.20  If  the  writer  of  Q  (or  P') 
sought  to  bring  Jesus  into  relation  with  Wisdom  as  early 
as  the  third  or  fourth  decade  of  the  first  century,  one  has 
a  right  to  ask,  what  led  him  to  do  this?  Would  he  be  likely 
to  do  it,  if  there  had  been  no  authority  for  it  in  the  reported 
sayings  of  Jesus  himself?  Is  it  not  more  probable,  if  Jesus 
claimed  to  be  the  Messiah,  that  his  own  consciousness  was 
brought  into  relief  against  the  background  of  the  Wisdom 
speculations  just  as  it  was  against  the  background  of  the 
Messianic  speculations  than  that  it  should  have  occurred  so 
early  to  a  Christian  disciple  to  consider  Jesus  as  Wisdom 
incarnate?  Surely  later  Christian  belief  that  the  hypostases 
of  Wisdom  and  Word  were  incarnate  in  Jesus  must  have 
had  some  starting  point,  and,  if  we  can  trace  it  back  to  with- 
in a  decade  of  Jesus,  it  appears  to  be  more  fitting  to  con- 
sider the  logion  as  genuine,  to  find  that  starting  point  in 
Jesus'  own  consciousness,  and  to  take  this  passage  as  reflect- 
ing a  genuine  experience  of  his. 

To  this  conclusion  J.  Rendel  Harris  has  apparently  re- 
cently come.21  In  thus  treating  the  passage  as  a  genuine 
word  of  Jesus,  we  follow  in  the  footsteps  of  so  thorough  and 
untheological  a  writer  as  Oscar  Holtzmann.22  If  the  words 
are  words  of  Jesus  they  represent  an  enlargement  of  his  con- 
sciousness of  his  mission  due,  apparently,  to  that  intensify- 
ing of  the  powers  which  mystic  communion  with  that  Father, 
whom  psychologists  delight  to  call  the  "  Beyond  "  gives. 
"  At  that  time  " —  some  definite  moment  of  experience  the 

20  For  a  statement  of  the  pre-Christian  Jewish  conception  of  the 
Divine  Wisdom  see  Bousset,  Die  Religion  des  Judentums  in  neutest- 
amentlichen  Zeitalter,  Berlin,  1903,  pp.  336-350. 

21  See  his  Origin  of  the  Prologue  to  St.  John's  Gospel,  Cambridge, 

IW,  PP-  57-62. 

22  See  his  Life  of  Jesus,  London,  1904,  p.  284. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  77 

date  of  which  is  unknown  to  us  —  Jesus  experienced  such 
union  with  the  Father  and  became  conscious  of  such  unique 
knowledge  of  him,  that  he  realized  in  a  new  way  that  his 
person  was  the  instrument  of  the  revelation  of  the  Father  to 

men. 

One  other  experience  in  the  life  of  Jesus  remains  to  be 
considered,    his    agony    in    Gethsemane    (Matt.    26:36ff. ; 
Mark    14:32!?.;   Lu.   22:39n\).     In   the   shadow   of   the 
shameful  death  that  was  impending  he  prayed ;  "  and  being 
in  an  agony  he  prayed  more  earnestly;  and  his  sweat  became 
as  it  were  great  drops  of  blood  falling  down  to  the  ground." 
This  agony  of  sweat  is  declared  to  be  psychologically  true 
to  nature  and  to  bear  the  genuine  marks  of  the  mystic  ex- 
perience.23    The  agony  was  great,  but  communion  with  the 
Father  in  prayer  brought  the  needed  relief.     Into  the  soul 
of  Jesus  came  peace  and  his  spirit  was  flooded  with  calm 
strength.     Thus  through  communion  with  the  "  Beyond  "  he 
gained  strength  for  the  supreme  act  of  devotion,  and  went 
with  quiet  power  to  face  the  cross  which  sums  up  in  itself 
the  tragedy  of  the  ages.     One  other  experience  of  Jesus  — 
that  upon  the  cross  —  should,  perhaps,  be  brought  into  con- 
nection with  that  in  Gethsamane.     In  Mark  and  Matthew 
we  are  told  that  Jesus  cried  with  a  loud  voice:     "  My  God, 
my   God,   why  hast   thou   forsaken   me?"    (Mark    15:34; 
Matt.  27:  46).     Apparently  this  was  an  agony  of  prayer  like 
that    in    Gethsemane,    only   still   more    intense.     In    mortal 
agony,  as  the  moment  of  dissolution  approached,  he  missed 
for  a  moment  that  mystic  sense  of   the  environing  Father 
that  had  so  often  sustained  him  in  moments  of  lesser  trial. 
The  agonizing  cry  seems  to  have  reestablished  the  mystic 
communion  which  made  him  once  more  master  of  himself. 
Mark  and  Matthew  tell  us  (Mark  15:37;  Matt.  27:50), 
that  a  little  later  Jesus  cried  with  a  loud  voice  again,  and 
yielded  up  his  spirit,  though  they  do  not  tell  us  what  he 

23  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  IX,  p.  89- 


78  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

said.  Luke  tells  us  (Luke  23:46)  that  his  words  on  this 
occasion  were:  "Father,  into  thy  hands  I  commend  my 
spirit."  The  Fourth  evangelist  transforms  them  (John 
19:30)  into:  "It  is  finished."  Since  Luke  is  the  earlier 
Gospel  and  is  not  pervaded  by  the  theological  presupposi- 
tions of  John,  we  may  here  follow  Luke.  It  would  seem, 
then,  that  the  agonized  cry,  "  Why  hast  thou  forsaken  me?  " 
may  well  be  understood  as  a  cry  for  the  reestablishment  of 
a  sense  of  God's  mystic  presence  at  the  moment  of  supreme 
need,  and  that  the  calm  commending  of  his  spirit  to  the 
Father  bears  witness  that  that  God  in  whom  he,  much  more 
than  we  do,  lived  and  moved  and  had  his  being,  became 
once  more  to  his  consciousness  the  vitalizing  atmosphere  of 
his  soul. 

In  conclusion  let  us  remind  ourselves  that  Jesus  speaks 
little  of  himself,  and  that  the  occasions  when  we  can  detect 
in  his  life  experiences  that  may  be  studied  as  "  mystic,"  if 
we  take  the  word  to  mean  some  remarkable  inrush  of  vitaliz- 
ing power  from  the  Beyond,  are  few  indeed.  It  is  only  on 
four  or  five  occasions  that  the  veil  is  for  a  moment  drawn 
aside  from  his  inner  life.  These  glimpses,  however,  reveal 
to  us  the  secret  of  his  strength. 

The  depth  of  his  moral  insight,  his  certainty  of  God,  the 
clearness  with  which  he  read  human  motives  and  human 
needs,  his  sympathy  with  nature  and  his  understanding 
of  it,  and  above  all  his  own  inner  purity,  strength,  and  un- 
selfish love  —  qualities  which  make  him  unique  among  men 
—  all  indicate  that  many  such  mystic  experiences  were  his 
and  that  from  that  great  "  Beyond  "  that  the  theologian  calls 
God  he  constantly  drew  the  nurture  that  made  these  quali- 
ties possible. 

It  would  be  more  correct  to  say  that  experiences  which,  in 
the  great  mystics  are  occasional  only,  constituted  the  normal 
state  of  Jesus'  consciousness.  What  in  the  best  of  his 
disciples  have  been  rare  moments  to  be  cherished  in  memory 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  JESUS  79 

appear  to  have  been  in  him  the  warp  and  woof  of  daily  life. 
He  saw  truth  and  God.  These  he  knew,  apparently,  not  by 
processes  of  reasoning  and  logic,  but  by  vision.  He  illus- 
trated his  own  beatitude  concerning  the  pure  in  heart  —  he 
saw  God.  This  is  a  quality,  possessed  in  lesser  degree,  to  be 
sure,  but  still  possessed  by  the  greatest  mystics.  For  them, 
too,  truth  is  a  matter,  not  of  reasoning,  but  of  vision.  If 
one  cannot  perceive  truth  in  a  like  immediate  way,  the  mystic 
has  no  adequate  argument  with  which  to  persuade  him  — 
nothing  but  the  authority  of  his  own  insight.  How  char- 
acteristic this  was  of  Jesus  his  hearers  noted  early  in  his 
ministry.  "  He  taught  them  as  one  having  authority  and 
not  as  the  scribes"    (Matt.  7:29). 

This  note  of  immediacy  and  authority  is  found  on  nearly 
every  page  of  the  Synoptic  Gospels.  Two  or  three  examples 
are:  "  Even  so  there  shall  be  joy  in  heaven  over  one 
sinner  that  repenteth  "  (Luke  15:  17)  ;  "The  Kingdom  of 
heaven  is  like  unto  a  grain  of  mustard  seed  "  (Matt.  13:  31)  ; 
"  Are  not  five  sparrows  sold  for  two  farthings,  and  not  one 
of  them  is  forgotten  in  the  sight  of  God?"  (Luke  12:6). 
These  are  but  examples.  Many  more  will  readily  occur  to 
every  reader. 

Whatever  the  topic,  the  discourse  of  Jesus  moved  in  this 
realm  of  immediate  vision,  which  only  the  mystic  approaches. 
It  would  appear,  then,  that,  although  we  can  trace  certain 
moments  of  crises  in  the  mystic  experiences  of  Jesus,  the 
great  characteristic  of  his  mysticism  was  his  continual  living 
in  the  atmosphere  of  the  "  Beyond." 

In  other  words,  in  Jesus  the  mystic  experience  was  not  un- 
usual, but  constant  and  normal.  Jesus  was  the  master-mystic 
of  the  ages.  No  personality  known  to  us  has  drawn  from 
the  Infinite  so  much  of  all  that  is  lovely,  inspiring,  and 
creative  as  he.  To  view  Jesus  as  a  mystic  is  to  gain  a  view 
of  his  personality  through  some  of  the  favorite  concepts  of 
our  age, —  a  view  which  interprets  to  us  afresh  those  quali- 


80  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

ties  in  him  that  made  the  men  who  had  the  privilege  of  con- 
tact with  him  realize  that,  as  never  before,  they  had  come 
near  to  God. 


THE  MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL 
Benjamin  Wisner  Bacon 

§  I.   The  Previous  Question 

Preliminary  to  the  question  of  the  psychologist:  What 
were  the  experiences  of  the  author  considered?  lies  the  ques- 
tion of  the  critic:  What  are  our  sources  of  information? 
Even  in  the  case  of  contemporaries  it  makes  a  difference 
whether  the  record  which  serves  as  our  basis  of  judgment 
be  derived  at  first  or  second  hand ;  and  if  we  are  so  fortunate 
as  to  possess  the  mystic's  own  account  of  his  experience  it 
still  is  a  matter  of  greatest  moment  whether  the  record  was 
prepared  for  the  purpose  to  which  the  scientific  investigator 
puts  it.  It  may  be,  conceivably,  a  dispassionate  report  of 
calm  self-scrutiny,  or  again  it  may  be  an  indignant  polemic, 
a  protest  again  slander,  a  rhapsody  of  ecstatic  feeling.  If 
the  author  be  writing  for  scientific  purposes  we  may  treat 
his  utterances  accordingly.  We  must  use  a  different  kind 
of  interpretation  if  he  writes  as  a  religious  enthusiast,  pas- 
sionately conscious  of  the  inadequacy  of  language,  and  eagerly 
availing  himself  of  more  or  less  conventionalized  forms  and 
symbols  of  devout  imagination. 

When  in  addition  the  attempt  is  made  to  overleap  the 
gap  of  well-nigh  two  millenniums  in  time,  and  the  culture 
and  civilization  of  a  non-Aryan  race,  the  need  of  historical 
criticism,  and  of  historical  interpretation,  becomes  ten-fold 
more  apparent,  as  a  preliminary  to  any  judgment  worth 
having  concerning  the  mystical  "  experiences  "  of  an  author. 

81 


82  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

If  anything  were  lacking  to  prove  the  necessity  of  such 
preliminary  enquiry  it  would  be  supplied  by  a  recent 
example1  of  uncritical  procedure,  in  which  what  is  called 
"  psychological  criticism  "  is  applied  to  the  character  and 
teaching  of  Jesus  in  much  the  same  way  that  one  might 
apply  it  to  that  of  Moses  from  the  Pentateuch,  David  from 
the  Psalms,  or  Isaiah  from  the  composite  literature  covering 
several  centuries  that  has  attached  itself  to  the  prophet's 
name. 

Not  that  a  real  and  genuine  "  psychological  criticism  " 
might  not  be  serviceable  if  ultimately  applied  even  to  these 
dim,  majestic  figures  of  the  past.  Not  that  it  is  inapplicable 
even  in  the  case  of  Jesus,  difficult  as  it  is  for  the  historical 
and  literary  critic  to  determine  the  precise  nature  of  his 
teaching  and  outline  of  his  career.  But  the  preliminary 
studies  are  not  wanting.  We  have  a  whole  literature  de- 
voted to  the  "  Messianic  Consciousness  of  Jesus."  And  in 
this  valuable  literature  the  specific  problem  of  the  "  Es- 
chatology  "  of  Jesus,  or  his  conception  of  his  relation  to  the 
Coming  Age  of  world-renewal,  takes  the  fore-front  of  the 
discussion.  Such  "  psychological  criticism  "  is  both  inevit- 
able, and  (if  conducted  competently,  in  a  spirit  of  reverence 
and  devotion  to  the  truth)  is  even  ardently  to  be  desired. 
For  what  do  we  mean  by  "  knowing  "  and  "  appreciating  " 
the  spirit  of  Jesus,  if  not  bringing  it  into  nearest  practicable 
relation  to  the  spirit  of  men  of  his  own  times,  such  as 
John  the  Baptist  and  Paul,  of  the  great  leaders  of  Israel's 
religious  past,  such  as  Isaiah  and  Jeremiah,  and  so  (by  this 
same  road  of  comparison)  into  relation  with  men  of  our  own 
times  and  ultimately  with  our  own  consciousness.  Such 
"  psychological  criticism  "  we  admit  to  be  both  inevitable 
and  necessary.  But  those  who  have  made  real  contributions 
in     this     field,     the     Schenkels,     Baldenspergers,     Wredes, 

1  G.  Stanley  Hall,  Jesus  Christ  in  the  Light  of  Psychology,  vols. 
I  and  II,  New  York,  1917. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      83 

Schweitzers,  Sandays,  Winstanleys  and  others,  did  not  begin 
to  build  at  the  top  of  the  chimney.  They  sought  first  of  all 
as  competent  critics  and  philologians  to  know  the  nature 
and  relative  value  of  the  documents  on  which  they  relied 
for  their  data,  and  the  meaning  of  the  language  employed, 
and  thus  laid  a  foundation. 

In  the  case  of  St.  Paul  there  is  more  immediate  reason 
for  the  application  of  a  modest  and  methodical  "  psychologi- 
cal criticism  "  than  in  the  case  of  his  great  Master.  For 
whereas  the  very  fact  of  any  mystical  experience  of  Jesus  is 
widely  open  to  question,  Paul  explicitly  and  emphatically 
proclaims  it  in  his  own  case.  At  the  same  time  there  is  also 
greater  hope  of  useful  results.  For  psychological  analysis 
is  obviously  more  practicable  where  the  basis  of  study  is  a 
body  of  admittedly  authentic  writings  by  the  character  to 
be  studied,  rather  than  a  body  of  anonymous,  undated  nar- 
ratives, extremely  diverse  in  character  and  notoriously  diffi- 
cult to  harmonize,  as  to  which  we  can  be  sure  of  almost 
nothing  beyond  the  fact  that  not  one  word  was  written  by 
the  subject  himself,  and  that  their  very  language  is  only  his 
in  translation. 

As  it  is,  the  psychologist,  expert  or  inexpert,  has  not  waited 
to  ask  whether  in  the  case  of  Paul  his  enquiry  was  prac- 
ticable and  promising  or  not.  The  very  necessity  of  the  case 
demands  it.  Every  apologist  for  the  Christian  faith,  since 
the  Apostle  himself  answered  to  Festus  for  his  own  rational- 
ity, finds  it  necessary  to  treat  of  Paul's  mystical  experiences. 
We  have  no  other  direct  and  well  authenticated  attestation 
of  the  central  facts  of  our  religion,  no  other  first-hand  wit- 
ness to  the  resurrection  faith.  No  wonder  then  that  we 
have  scores,  if  not  hundreds,  of  attempts,  more  or  less  satis- 
factory according  as  they  are  based  on  a  wider  or  narrower 
foundation  of  kindred  observed  phenomena,  to  classify,  in- 
terpret, explain,  make  intelligible,  that  religious  experience 
of  Paul  which  centers  upon  his  conversion.     Historically  the 


84  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

rock  foundation  of  the  Church  was  the  new  birth  of  Peter's 
faith,  when  the  gates  of  Sheol  were  found  to  have  yielded 
to  the  Prince  of  life.  But  Peter  has  left  us  no  record  of  his 
experience.  For  Christian  apologetic  the  starting-point 
must  be  that  vision  of  the  glorified  Jesus  which  gave  to  Paul 
his  apostleship  and  his  gospel  in  one. 

The  reason  for  this  central  importance  of  the  mystical 
experience  of  Paul  is  not  far  to  seek;  but  it  is  so  commonly 
forgotten  or  ignored  that  I  may  venture  to  remind  you  of 
the  facts.  Not  only  are  the  Pauline  Epistles  by  much  the 
oldest  New  Testament  writings,  antedating  by  half  a  genera- 
tion the  most  ancient  of  extant  Gospels,  they  are  actually 
the  only  admittedly  apostolic  record  that  we  possess.  Only 
one  of  the  writings  attributed  by  church  tradition  to  the 
Apostle  John  contains  the  name  of  the  reputed  author,  and 
that  is  Revelation,  the  most  violently  disputed  of  all  from 
the  very  beginning.  Matthew  is  admittedly  not  apostolic 
in  its  present  form.  Of  the  many  writings  purporting  to  be 
the  work  of  Peter,  only  one,  the  so-called  First  Epistle,  has 
claims  to  authenticity  which  are  generally  deemed  worthy  of 
serious  consideration;  and  what  First  Peter  contains  that  is 
not  borrowed  from  Paul  is  a  quantity  so  minute  as  to  be 
almost  imperceptible.  Outside  Paul,  then,  there  are  no 
writings  of  admitted  apostolicity,  and  Paul  himself  was  not 
an  Apostle  in  that  sense  of  the  word  which  most  appeals 
to  the  secular  historian.  But  he  is  our  only  first-hand  wit- 
ness for  the  ultimate  facts  of  gospel  story. 

I  do  not  by  any  means  wish  to  be  understood  as  implying 
that  without  Paul  we  should  know  nothing  about  the  char- 
acter, teaching  and  career  of  Jesus,  and  of  the  origins  of  the 
Church.  Quite  the  contrary.  By  far  the  larger  part  of  our 
knowledge  comes  from  sources  independent  of  Paul.  But 
all  this  independent  knowledge  would  lose  its  most  indis- 
pensable support  and  guarantee,  were  it  not  for  the  datable, 
signed,  and  superbly  authenticated  Pauline  Epistles.     When, 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL     85 

therefore,  it  becomes  a  question  of  establishing  so  vital  a 
fact  of  our  religion  as  the  appearances  of  the  risen  Christ 
to  his  disciples,  it  would  be  hopeless  to  try  to  establish  any- 
thing without  the  testimony  of  First  Corinthians,  the  best 
authenticated  of  all  the  writings  of  the  New  Testament, 
a  writing  (I  think  it  safe  to  say)  as  well  authenticated  as 
any  of  classical  antiquity. 

As  we  know,  Paul  correlates  his  own  experience  with 
that  of  all  the  other  witnesses  of  the  resurrection  in  I  Cor. 
15:  1— 1 1,  a  survey  of  the  testimony  quite  adequate  for  the 
purpose,  but  completely  different  from  the  story  told  in  any 
one  of  the  Gospels,  and  having  scarcely  a  point  of  contact 
with  theirs.  As  between  Paul's  record  and  that  of  Synoptic 
story  no  historian  could  hesitate  for  a  moment.  We  are 
all  familiar  with  the  often  quoted  declaration  that  the  testi- 
mony of  the  Gospels  to  the  data  of  the  resurrection  story 
would  suffice  to  establish  the  fact  in  any  court  of  law.  The 
statement  is  made  by  one  among  other  writers  who  counts 
the  training  of  a  lawyer  among  his  many  qualifications. 
And  yet  even  a  child  should  perceive  its  harmful  exaggera- 
tion. It  might  perhaps  be  true  if  the  Gospels  were  the 
signed  and  sealed  deposition  of  competent  first-hand  wit- 
nesses. As  it  is,  they  are  unsigned,  undated  reports  gathered 
forty  or  more  years  after  the  event,  dependent  on  unknown 
sources  at  several,  perhaps  many,  removes  from  the  eye-wit- 
nesses. What  would  such  documents  be  worth  without  the 
corroborative  evidence  of  at  least  one  eye-witness?  The 
authenticated  record  of  Paul  is  not  only  by  far  the  oldest 
testimony,  not  only  is  he  the  only  witness  who  comes  for- 
ward with  the  definite  statement  "  I  saw  " ;  it  is  his  state- 
ment which  supports  and  authenticates  all  the  rest.  It  is 
his  statement,  therefore,  by  reference  to  which  the  concur- 
rent tradition  must  also  be  weighed,  valued  and  understood. 

Because  there  can  be  neither  rational  defense  of  the 
fundamental  truths  of  Christianity,  nor  historically  adequate 


86  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

explanation  of  its  origin,  without  consideration  (as  scientific 
as  the  conditions  allow)  of  the  religious  experience  of  Paul, 
there  is  no  lack  in  number  of  such  treatises.  The  whole 
history  of  apologetics  teems  with  them,  from  the  Book  of 
Acts,  with  its  thrice-repeated  narrative  of  Paul's  conversion, 
down  to  the  present  day.  The  great  majority  of  these  ac- 
counts are  as  innocent  of  scientific  criticism  as  they  are  of 
scientific  psychology.  They  have  the  fault  which  is  no  less 
conspicuous  in  the  traditional  apologist  than  in  the  self-ap- 
pointed champion  of  "  psychological  criticism."  They  do  not 
verify  their  data.  Now  the  modern  apologist  is  quite  awake 
to  the  uselessness  of  invoking  the  ghost  of  canonical  in- 
fallibility. No  appeal  to  inerrant  inspiration  will  excuse  him 
from  the  task  of  authentication  of  his  sources.  Nor  can 
the  "  psychological  critic  "  be  excused.  He  too  must  face  the 
question  whether  the  data  on  which  he  bases  his  inferences 
with  regard  to  Paul  are  drawn  from  an  anonymous  writer 
of  unknown  date,  repeating  for  apologetic  or  homiletic  pur- 
poses, with  variations  far  from  easy  to  reconcile,  a  story 
which  has  come  to  him  from  no  one  knows  what  sources, 
and  by  what  channels ;  or  whether,  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
drawn  from  the  very  words  of  Paul  himself  in  his  best 
authenticated  epistles. 

For  reasons  already  sufficiently  set  forth,  psychological 
criticism  in  this  field  is  indispensable.  Shall  we,  then,  have 
a  William  James,  superadding  his  knowledge  of  con- 
temporary religious  psychology  to  the  knowledge  of  the  his- 
torians and  philological  experts  familiar  with  the  literature 
of  Hellenistic  religious  mysticism,  building  upon  the  work  of 
historical  and  literary  critics  competent  to  decide  most  points 
of  documentary  testimony?  Or  shall  we  continue  the  type 
of  architecture  which  begins  building  at  the  top,  ignoring  the 
whole  work  of  biblical  scholarship?  For  in  recent  years 
there  have  been  many  able  attempts  to  bring  Acts  and  the 
Pauline  Epistles  into  right  relations  with  one  another  and 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      87 

with  their  environment,  important  developments  of  philology 
and  literary  criticism,  which  have  shed  new  floods  of  light 
on  the  meaning  of  Paul's  own  mystical  language  by  com- 
paring it  with  that  of  contemporary  religious  mysticism. 

§  2.  Letters  vs.   Tradition 

In  several  instances  the  biblical  writings  furnish  instruc- 
tive contrasts  between  the  religious  author  and  leader,  living 
before  us  in  the  beacon  light  of  his  own  impassioned  message, 
and  the  same  individual  as  depicted  in  later  tradition  and 
legend.  From  the  account  of  Isaiah's  life  work  in  the  Book 
of  Kings  we  should  obtain  almost  no  inkling  of  the  true 
grandeur  of  the  prophet  as  revealed  in  the  sublime  ideals 
to  which  his  writings  are  dedicated;  just  as  conversely  the 
Isaian  poems  exhibit  no  trace  whatever  of  the  externals 
of  wonder-tale  related  in  Kings.  The  contrast  between  the 
Pauline  Epistles  and  the  Book  of  Acts  is  a  closely  parallel 
case.  In  the  Epistles  we  see  the  life  of  Paul  from  the  inside. 
The  mystical  experience  which  made  him  an  Apostle  of  the 
faith  he  had  persecuted,  and  which  inspired  him  with  a  divine 
gospel  for  the  world,  here  shines  through  on  almost  every 
page,  although  there  is  nowhere  a  detailed  account  of  the 
occurrence.  Whenever  Paul  is  defending  either  his  apostle- 
ship  or  his  gospel  this  mystical  experience  is  presupposed. 
It  is  the  gold  background  against  which  any  adequate  por- 
trait of  the  missionary  and  martyr  must  be  painted. 

But  defense  of  his  apostleship  and  gospel  is  the  prime 
motive  of  the  principal  writings  of  Paul.  The  four  "  major 
epistles"  (so-called),  Galatians,  First  and  Second  Cor- 
inthians, Romans,  the  famous  four  which  Baur  justly  laid 
down  as  the  unassailable  foundation  for  a  constructive 
criticism  of  all  New  Testament  literature,  are  chiefly  occu- 
pied with  precisely  this.  In  Galatians  the  first  two  chapters 
are  a  defense  of  Paul's  apostleship,  beginning  with  a  refer- 
ence to  his  conversion  (1:  10-17;  2:  7-8).     The  following 


88  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

three  chapters  are  a  defense  of  the  gospel  he  had  on  that  oc- 
casion received  from  God. 

In  Corinthians  and  Romans  the  two  streams  divide.  The 
Corinthian  correspondence  is  largely  concerned  with  the  de- 
fense of  Paul's  apostolic  authority.  In  the  First  Epistle  we 
obtain  at  intervals  glimpses  of  the  opposition  which  denied 
it,  and  repeated  references  to  the  vision  of  the  glorified  Lord 
on  which  it  rested  (I  Cor.  9:  1;  15:8-9).  A  much  more 
active  and  aggressive  defense  is  carried  on  in  the  painful 
"four  chapter  letter"  II  Cor.  io:i-I3:io,2  while  in 
the  latest  portion,  which  seems  to  include  II  Cor.  1 :  1-9:  15 
with  exception  of  the  early  fragment  6:  14-7:  I,8  the  central 
theme  is  a  panegyric  of  the  "  ministry  of  the  new  covenant  " 
(II  Cor.  3:  1-6:  10)  in  which  the  victorious  Apostle  looks 
back  over  the  hard-fought  conflict  for  his  divine  authority, 
glorifying  the  office  of  "  ambassador  for  God  " ;  he  does  this, 
however,  not  as  a  matter  of  concern  to  himself  alone,  but 
on  behalf  of  all  conscious  like  himself  of  the  same  divine 
commission. 

As  a  whole,  then,  the  Corinthian  correspondence  is  oc- 
cupied with  a  continuation  of  the  defense  of  Paul's  apostle- 
ship  begun  in  Galatians.  True  his  mystical  gospel  is  also 
vindicated  against  the  gnosis  of  the  Apollos  party  in  I  Cor. 
1:  18-2:  16.  It  appears  again  in  support  of  his  resurrec- 
tion doctrine  in  I  Cor.  15:  1-58;  II  Cor.  4:  7-5:  10.  But 
in  the  Corinthians  Paul's  mystical  experience  appears  mainly 
in  defense  of  his  apostleship;  the  defense  of  his  gospel  is 
incidental.  If,  then,  Gal.  1:  n-17;  2:  7-8  is  justly  empha- 
sized as  giving  us  in  connection  with  the  references  already 
specified  in  First  Corinthians  (9:  1 ;  15:  7-8)  our  authorita- 

2  Probably  taken  from  the  letter  referred  to  as  a  letter  of  self- 
commendation  written  "with  many  tears"  in  II  Cor.  2:3-4;  7:8-12. 
Several  Corinthian  fragments  appear  to  have  been  combined  in 
"  Second  "  Corinthians. 

3  Perhaps  a  remnant  of  the  letter  urging  the  church  to  better 
discipline  in  matters  of  the  sex  relation  referred  to  in  I  Cor.  5:  9-13- 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      89 

tive,  first-hand,  indisputably  authentic  corroboration  of  the 
story  of  Paul's  conversion  related  in  Acts,  the  supplementa- 
tion or  corroboration  from  the  Epistles  should  never  be  per- 
mitted to  stop  here.  The  most  vital  element  of  all  is 
neglected  if  (as  is  usually  the  case)  we  fail  to  associate  with 
the  data  of  Acts,  Galatians  and  First  Corinthians  the  great 
defense  of  the  "  ministry  of  the  new  covenant  "  in  II  Cor. 
3:  18-4:  6;  5:  16-21.  For  this  is  Paul's  fuller  setting  forth 
of  what  the  experience  of  Apostolic  vocation  meant  to  him, 
and  should  mean  to  others.  It  tells  us  how  and  why  he  felt 
himself   to  be   "  an   ambassador  for  God." 

Finally  Romans,  as  has  been  recognized  since  the  close 
of  the  second  century,4  is  a  systematic  exposition  of  Paul's 
gospel.  Naturally  it  leaves  the  now  settled  question  of 
apostolic  authority  in  the  background  while  interpreting 
Paul's  gospel  at  greater  length  than  Galatians.  But  in  Rom. 
7:7-8:11  we  find  the  same  application  as  in  Second 
Corinthians  of  Paul's  personal  mystical  experience  as  the 
norm  and  standard.  His  gospel  of  life  in  the  Spirit  which 
makes  conquest  of  sin  and  death  is  the  avowed  reflection 
of  his  own  soul-crisis,  and  for  this  reason  he  employs  the 
first  person  singular. 

Later  epistles  such  as  Philippians,  Colossians  and  Ephe- 
sians  (among  which  only  Ephesians  is  any  longer  seriously 
attacked  on  the  score  of  authenticity)  add  elements  of  value 
to  our  understanding  of  Paul's  mystical  experience;5  but 
even  without  them  we  should  be  adequately  informed  as  to 
all  its  essential  factors,  and  the  significance  which  the  Apostle 
himself  found  in  them.  For  our  present  purpose,  which 
does  not  extend  beyond  the  single  all-important  incident  of 
the  vision  on  the  road  to   Damascus  and  its  implications, 

4  So  the  Muratorian  Fragment  (ca.  185  a.  d),  "setting  forth  at 
length  (prolixius)  Christ  as  primary  to  all  that  the  scriptures 
direct." 

5  See  e.  g.  Phil.  3:1-14,  20-21;  7:5-11,  and  Eph.  3:1-12. 


9o  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

it  would  suffice  if  only  the  four  "  major  epistles  "  were  re- 
garded as  authentic,  and  Ephesians  —  yes,  and  even  Colos- 
sians  and  Philippians  —  were  treated  as  deutero-Pauline, 
subordinated  to  the  rank  of  secondary  reflections  of  the 
Apostle's  experience  and  teaching. 

The  wealth  of  this  first-hand,  direct  testimony  of  Paul 
himself  to  the  inward  nature  of  his  mystical  experience  in 
the  event  which  gave  him  both  his  apostolic  calling  and 
his  God-taught  gospel,  is  as  yet  far  from  adequate  apprecia- 
tion. On  the  other  hand  we  only  tend  to  obscure  it  if  we 
over-value  the  secondary,  hearsay  accounts  of  an  unknown, 
anonymous  apologist  in  the  Book  of  Acts.  Even  were  the 
three  more  or  less  conflicting  accounts  of  this  later  narrative 
traceable  to  an  eyewitness  they  could  not  tell  us  the  really 
important  things.  Their  portrait  would  no  more  nearly 
correspond  to  the  real  Paul  than  Xenophon's  Socrates  to  the 
Socrates  of  Plato.  Indeed  every  thoughtful  man  must 
realize  upon  a  mental  survey  of  the  book  that  the  author 
of  Acts  has  no  idea  of  describing  the  religious  experience  of 
Paul,  and  could  not  if  he  would.  He  tells  the  story  of  the 
transformation  of  the  arch-persecutor  of  the  Church  into 
its  most  efficient  evangelist,  and  tells  it  mainly  as  an  evidence 
of  divine  intervention  to  save  the  brotherhood  of  the  faith. 
"Luke"  (if  we  adopt  the  traditional  name  for  this  un- 
known Autor  ad  Theophilum)  takes  no  pains  to  har- 
monize discordant  details,  and  leaves  discrepancies  of  the 
most  flagrant  character  between  his  story  of  Paul's  earlier 
ministry  and  that  given  by  Paul  himself.  There  has  indeed 
been  organized  of  late  years  under  the  leadership  of  Harnack 
a  somewhat  romantic  at'tempt  to  carry  back  the  Book  of 
Acts  to  what  still  appears  to  me  (and  certainly  not  long  ago 
to  the  great  majority  of  critics)  an  absurdly  early  date. 
Advocates  of  a  high  doctrine  of  Scripture  inerrancy  have 
welcomed  this  dangerous  German  ally,  and  our  own  Pro- 
fessor   Torrey,    on    quite    independent,    almost    purely    lin- 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      91 

guistic  grounds  has  committed  himself  to  a  dating  even 
earlier  still.  But  Professor  Torrey  himself  will  not  main- 
tain that  the  author  of  Acts  is  a  good  witness  to  the  re- 
ligious experience  of  Paul,  or  that  we  should  do  well  to 
rely  on  his  accounts  of  the  Apostle's  conversion  and  early 
career  for  anything  more  than  the  outline  story  as  it  would 
naturally  be  reported  in  the  churches  through  the  uncritical 
medium  of  pulpit  anecdote.  The  speeches  of  Acts  are  such 
as  are  composed  by  the  authors  of  contemporary  writings 
of  similar  type  to  fit  the  occasion  described.  The  speeches 
placed  in  Paul's  mouth  in  Acts  17 :  22-31 ;  20:  18-35  I  22:  1- 
21  and  26:  1-29  are  remarkably  fine  examples  of  this  Thucy- 
didean  art,  by  a  sincere  and  devout  admirer  of  Paul,  but 
they  cannot  justly  be  quoted  as  on  the  same  level  with  the 
letters  which  they  sometimes  contradict.6  They  fit  their  oc- 
casions remarkably  well,  far  better,  for  example,  than  that 
of  Acts  13:  16-41;  but  if  they  fitted  ten  times  better  than 
they  do,  their  value  for  the  "  psychological  criticism  "  of 
Paul  would  still  be  limited  to  externalities.  They  would 
give  us  little  more  than  the  material  framework,  the  arrest  of 
the  persecutor  near  Damascus  by  a  sudden  mental  and  phy- 
sical collapse,  from  which  he  rose  as  it  were  a  new  man, 
convinced  that  the  crucified  Messiah  whose  followers  he 
had  been  persecuting  had  interposed  on  their  behalf.7     God 

6  Compare  the  statement  of  Acts  24:17  with  Rom.  15:25-28,  or 
Acts  22:17-21   and  26:20  with  Gal.  1:16-24. 

7  Such  is  the  bearing  even  of  the  (Greek)  proverb  Paul  is  repre- 
sented in  Acts  26:14  as  hearing  uttered  by  Jesus  in  his  vision. 
Entirely  unwarranted  inferences  have  been  drawn  from  this,  con- 
trary to  explicit  statements  of  the  letters  as  to  Paul's  condition  of 
mind  and  conscience,  by  modern  interpreters  of  the  Apostle's  psy- 
chology. In  reality  the  Lukan  author  has  no  more  idea  than 
Paul  himself  that  the  persecutor  was  harassed  by  doubts  and 
scruples  (see  Acts  22: 13 ;  23 : 1 ;  26:  9).  "It  is  hard  for  thee  to 
kick  against  the  goad,"  is  not  a  proverb  coined  in  the  interest  of 
prevention  of  cruelty  to  animals.  It  merely  uses  the  figure  of  the 
headstrong  ox  who  has  met  his  master,  and  discovers  it  as  he  vainly 
lashes  out  against  the  sharp-pointed  goad. 


92  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

had  manifested  him  glorified.  All  these  data  could  have 
been  inferred  from  the  Epistles  alone  without  Acts,  and 
after  all  they  furnish  no  more  than  the  framework.  The 
content  and  significance  of  the  experience  could  be  told,  and 
are  told,  by  none  save  Paul  himself. 

So  far,  then,  as  our  subject  involves  some  reference  to  re- 
cent studies  of  the  authorship,  date,  sources,  character  and 
purpose  of  Acts,  such  as  Harnack's  two  Beitrage,  Norden's 
Agnostos  Theos,  Preuschen's  Commentary  and  Torrey's 
Composition  and  Date,  we  may  confine  ourselves  to  the  gen- 
eral caveat  that  Acts  is  not  Paul,  and  if  used  at  all  in  the 
attempt  to  interpret  his  religious  experience  it  cannot  safely 
be  used  for  more  than  a  record  of  the  external  phenomena 
as  they  would  be  subsequently  related  in  common  tradi- 
tional report.  Acts  confirms  certain  inferences  we  might 
otherwise  not  feel  it  safe  to  make  from  the  statements  of 
Paul,  and  rounds  out  our  knowledge  of  external  conditions 
and  circumstances.  The  letters  must  be  the  primary  source, 
and  the  norm  of  authenticity. 

§  3.   The  Externalities 

If  the  habitual  method  of  treatment  were  here  to  be  fol- 
lowed we  should  immediately  address  ourselves  to  the  task 
of  relating  the  circumstances  of  Paul's  career  up  to  the  inci- 
dent at  Damascus  as  narrated  in  Acts,  adduce  a  reference 
to  his  sickness,  the  "  visions  and  revelations  "  and  the  "  stake 
in  the  flesh"  of  II  Cor.  12:  1-10,  and  proceed  thereupon 
to  draw  psychological  inferences.  We  might  perhaps  even 
deduce  a  "  physiological  psychology "  of  the  phenomenon. 
From  the  point  of  view  here  taken,  however,  such  a  pro- 
ceeding would  be  premature,  even  were  the  present  writer 
qualified  (as  is  not  the  case)  to  discuss  problems  of  phy- 
siological psychology. 

We  must  allow  the  psychologists  their  own  judgment  re- 
garding the  relative  importance  of  the  externalities  referred 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      93 

to,  as  compared  with  the  more  abiding  results  permanently 
registered  in  the  convictions  and  character  of  the  Apostle. 
But  it  must  also  be  admitted  that  the  general  run  of  Lives 
of  Paul  and  other  apologetic  literature  show  a  correspond- 
ingly disproportionate  interest  in  mere  external  circumstance. 
The  story  of  Acts  cannot,  indeed,  and  should  not,  be  ne- 
glected. It  furnishes  the  objective  data  in  concrete  form, 
and  it  is  not  only  interesting  but  important  to  observe  how 
largely  its  story  is  borne  out  by  the  Epistles.  This  aspect 
of  the  matter,  however,  need  detain  us  but  briefly.  Data 
already  so  many  times  threshed  over  are  chiefly  in  need  of 
winnowing.  Of  what  sort,  then,  are  these  data?  How 
stands  the  narrative  of  Acts  when  compared  with  the  letters? 
If  the  story  of  Paul's  vision  on  the  road  to  Damascus 
stood  in  Acts  alone,  without  corroboration  from  Paul,  it 
would  probably  have  been  treated  by  a  considerable  body  of 
critics  as  largely  legendary,  perhaps  as  fundamentally  a  mere 
literary  device.  For  in  reality  in  similar  literature,  particu- 
larly in  contemporary  Jewish  religious  narrative,  vision  and 
the  bath  qol  or  "  voice  from  heaven  "  is  a  stereotyped  literary 
form,  so  completely  a  convention  that  when  we  read  of 
Rabbi  Eleazar  or  Rabbi  Akiba,  or  whoever  else,  that  he 
had  a  vision,  or  bath  qol,  saying  so  and  so,  every  reader 
recognizes  that  this  is  a  mere  modus  loquendi.  The  symbol 
of  "  vision,"  or  angelic  utterance,  sets  forth  the  real  inner 
truth,  as  it  were,  from  the  divine  side.  It  is  not  seriously 
intended  to  convey  the  idea  that  all  the  individuals  of  whom 
it  is  related  were  "  psychics,"  and  passed  into  a  condition 
of  ecstasy,  or  catalepsy,  but  only  that  their  inner  experi- 
ences may  be  thus  symbolized  or  interpreted.  The  later 
Jewish  narrative  literature  teems  with  examples.  Angels, 
visions  and  voices  from  heaven  are  the  regular  stage  prop- 
erties of  its  drama,  as  indispensable  as  the  deus  ex  machina 
to  the  denouement  of  the  classic  tragedy.  Our  Book  of 
Acts    belongs    to    this    same    type    of    religious    narrative. 


94  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

In    several   cases    it   proves   its   use    of   the   current   modus 
loquendi,    by     relating    visions    contained    within    visions. 
Cornelius    in    Caesarea    not   only    has    a   vision    coincidently 
with  Peter's  vision  at  Joppa ;  but  in  it  the  separate  parties 
are  introduced  to  one  another.     In  Acts  9:  12  Ananias  in 
Damascus  has  a  vision  in  which  he  is  told  of  Paul's  experi- 
ence,  and  not  only  so,  but  that  even  now  Paul  is  having 
a  second  vision  in  which  "  he  hath  seen  a  man  named  Ananias 
coming  in  and  laying  his  hands  on  him  that  he  might  receive 
his  sight."     One  way  to  understand  this  intricate  apparatus 
of   visions   and   visions  of   visions   is,   of   course,   to  suppose 
that  everybody  in  those  days  was  a  "  psychic,"  Galilean  fish- 
ermen, Roman  centurions,  Jewish  householders  in  Damascus, 
and  all  the  rest.     A  little  more  familiarity  with  Jewish  and 
Christian  religious  narrative  from  Tobit  to  the  Clementine 
Recognitions  and  El  Zohar  leads  to  a  much  simpler  solution. 
As  we  have  just  observed,  vision  in  literature  of  this  type 
is  often   little  more  than   a  conventional  form,  adapted  to 
minds   unaccustomed    to    philosophic    abstractions,    a   means 
(so  to  speak)   of  taking  the  reader   (or  hearer)   behind  the 
scenes.     It  is  the  preacher's  substitute  for  the  philosopher's 
terminology    of    abstractions.     To    illustrate    this    mode    of 
thought   and   expression   we  have  the  entire   multitudinous 
class  of  compositions  known  as  "  apocalypses,"  or  "  revela- 
tions,"  which   consist  of   nothing  else  save  elaborations   of 
this  device.     Now  it  is  perfectly  apparent  in  a  large  pro- 
portion  of  cases   that   the   "  vision  "   of   the  apocalyptist   is 
as  purely  a  literary  fiction  as  John  Bunyan's;  since  the  com- 
positions are  often  conspicuously  the  product  of  scissors  and 
paste,  ink-pots,  manuscripts  and  midnight  oil.     Not  only  so, 
but  we  can  even  appreciate  why  this  method  of  presenting 
the  secrets  of  the  invisible  world   had  such  authority  and 
vogue.     For   in  many  cases   the  stories  of  vision   are  quite 
frankly    built    upon    the    ancient    theory    that    gives    the 
phenomenon  its  name  of  re-vela-tion,  airoKakvif/is,  or  draw- 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      95 

ing  away  of  the  veil.  The  idea  is  (and  this  is  the  gen- 
erally accepted  ancient  theory  of  "vision")  that  the 
phenomena  observed  are  real,  though  the  normal  man  lacks 
faculty  or  capacity  to  perceive  them.  The  seer  only  needs 
the  opening  of  an  inward  or  "  spiritual  "  eye,  whereupon  he 
sees  what  is  actually  taking  place  in  the  realm  of  spirit  though 
unperceived  by  ordinary  mortals.  Thus  at  Elisha's  prayer 
his  servants'  "  eyes  are  opened  "  to  see  the  supernatural  pro- 
tection which  really  surrounds  the  prophet  though  unseen 
by  fleshly  eyes.  Thus  Balaam  falls  to  the  ground  like  Paul 
but  has  his  (spiritual)  eyes  opened  (Num.  24:4,  16).  Thus 
Paul  himself  prays  that  his  readers  may  have  "  the  eyes  of 
their  heart  enlightened  "  and  mourns  that  the  god  of  this 
world  has  "  blinded  the  minds  of  the  unbelieving."  On  this 
theory  of  vision  of  course  it  is  perfectly  simple  for  three 
men,  or  for  the  matter  of  that  500  men  (I  Cor.  15:6),  to 
have  simultaneously  the  same  vision.  It  would  be  surprising 
if  undergoing  the  same  ecstatic  experience  at  the  same  time 
the  objects  of  their  vision  did  not  also  coincide.  It  is  also 
perfectly  feasible  on  this  conception  of  the  matter  for 
strangers  to  be  introduced  to  one  another  in  vision  before 
they  meet.  I  believe  modern  psychology  no  longer  accepts 
the  theory.  How  it  proposes  to  deal  with  ancient  vision  nar- 
ratives of  simultaneous  and  interconnected  visions  which  are 
built  upon  it  I   do  not  know. 

It  was  worth  while  to  dwell  at  some  length  upon  the  dif- 
ference between  the  ancient  and  modern  idea  of  "  vision," 
if  only  for  the  sake  of  illustrating  how  needful  it  is  before 
you  introduce  into  court  an  ancient  document  as  a  deposi- 
tion of  hard  and  fast  data,  to  take  some  account  of  its  real 
meaning  and  modus  loquendi,  the  language,  the  habits  of 
expression,  the  order  of  ideas,  through  which  it  conveys  its 
thought.  However,  my  object  in  calling  attention  to  the 
phenomena  of  that  class  of  literature  to  which  our  book 
of  Acts  belongs,  and  to  the  change  in  meaning  undergone 


96  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

by  the  very  word  "  vision  "  between  ancient  and  modern 
times,  was  in  this  case  to  confirm  and  not  to  discredit  the 
ordinary  interpretation  of  the  narrative.  The  type  of  litera- 
ture represented,  if  not  in  Acts  itself  then  certainly  in  its 
oral  and  written  sources,  is  that  narrative  of  religious  edifi- 
cation which  the  Synagogue  designates  midrash,  whose  near- 
est modern  analogue  is  pulpit  anecdote.  Unfortunately  we 
have  abundant  reason  from  the  known  habits  and  methods 
of  the  teller  of  midrash  to  discount  considerably  from  cer- 
tain aspects  of  his  story.  From  what  has  already  been  said 
it  will  be  obvious  that  among  these  aspects  must  be  such 
traits  as  appearances  of  angels,  voices  from  heaven,  visions, 
and  other  conventionalized  methods  of  visualizing  the 
abstract.  The  student  of  midrash  will  not  derive  from  his 
reading  of  Acts  the  impression  so  liable  to  be  made  on  the 
ordinary  reader  that  pretty  much  every  leading  character 
in  it  was  a  "  psychic."  He  may  rather  be  disposed  on  similar 
ground  to  enter  a  serious  caveat  against  the  theory  which  is 
just  now  rejoicing  in  a  very  marked  though  perhaps  un- 
deserved popularity,  that  Jesus  also  was  a  "  psychic "  or 
"  mystic."  The  so-called  "  Eschatological  "  school,  who  dis- 
cover the  primary  key  to  his  career  and  teaching  in  a  temper- 
ament to  which  ecstasy  and  apocalyptic  vision  are  the  supreme 
guide  and  impulse,  depict  him  as  what  Josephus  or  Celsus 
would  have  called  a  false  prophet  (yo^O  and  the  modern 
Syrian  a  derwish.  They  are  satisfied  with  portraiture  which 
like  Munkacsy's,  depicts  him  with  "  the  face  of  a  fanatic  " ; 
though  Schweitzer,  the  leading  exponent  of  the  school,  de- 
murs, I  believe,  to  terms  which  attribute  a  morbid  or  patho- 
logical character  to  the  imputed  paroxysms  of  his  religious 
imagination.  May  it  not  be  hoped  that  when  the  attempt  is 
seriously  made  to  treat  of  Jesus  among  the  mystics  some  at- 
tention may  be  paid,  in  this  case  if  not  in  Paul's,  to  the 
known  characteristics  of  Jewish  midrash?  We  have  not,  it 
is  true,  the  products  of  Jesus'  own  pen  to  compare  with  the 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      97 

pulpit  anecdotes  from  which  our  evangelists  have  built  the 
story  of  his  career.  But  we  do  possess  a  fairly  reliable  com- 
pend  of  his  precepts  and  parables;  and  these  best  authenti- 
cated utterances  of  Jesus  contrast  markedly  in  just  this 
respect  with  the  narrative  source,  that  they  subordinate  the 
so-called  "  eschatological  "  to  the  "  ethical  "  element.  They 
furnish  our  justification  for  certain  epithets  which  Professor 
Burkitt  finds  reprehensible  in  my  book  on  Mark:  "  the  sane 
and  well-poised  mind  of  the  plain  mechanic  of  Nazareth."  8 
Apropos  of  this  question  of  the  interpretation  of  the  litera- 
ture of  vision  I  remember  as  one  of  the  wise  remarks  of  a 
colleague  9  whose  authority  stands  very  high  among  its  inter- 
preters that  it  is  one  of  the  chief  difficulties  with  this  litera- 
ture that  one  cannot  tell  to  what  extent  its  symbolism  was 
meant  to  be  taken  literally,  and  to  what  extent  it  was  con- 
ventional. I  am  quite  sure  he  will  agree  with  me  in  saying 
that  those  apocalyptists  or  vision-writers  who  make  the 
loudest  claims  to  supernatural  sources  of  knowledge  are  as  a 
rule  far  from  showing  the  greatest  real  originality.  The 
apocalyptic  literature  cannot  compare  in  creative  power  with 
true  prophecy.  It  borrows  and  reiterates  both  ideas  and 
imagery.  It  is  with  this  literature  as  with  the  mental  process 
of  mysticism  in  general.  The  more  completely  the  powers  of 
reasoning  and  discriminative  judgment  are  suppressed,  the 
more  does  the  utterance  tend  to  become  imitative  and  stere- 
otyped. Put  the  subconscious  in  control  and  the  imitative 
instinct  familiar  to  us  in  mass  psychology  will  seize  the 
reins;  for  the  sz/£conscious  is  not  really  the  higher  realm  of 
mind.  Apocalyptic  literature  embodies  some  of  the  larger 
conceptions  of  Pan-Hellenistic  civilization.  These  and  the 
Persian  angelology  and  demonology  belonged  to  its  environ- 

8  Beginnings,  p.  108. 

9  Prof.  F.  C.  Porter,  author  of  Messages  of  the  Apocalyptic 
Writers,  New  York,  1905,  and  of  the  article  "Revelation  of  John" 
in  Hastings'  Bible  Dictionary. 


98  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

ment.     To  this  extent  therefore  it  enlarges  and  universalizes ; 
but  its  great  ideas  are  adapted  from  prophecy. 

If  the  psychological  studies  which  have  been  devoted  of 
late  to  the  phenomena  of  "  tongues  "  10  in  their  modern  mani- 
festations can  be  trusted,  these  utterances  of  religious  ecstasy 
are  singularly  illustrative  of  the  imitative  tendency  of  this 
mystical  condition.  Observers  note  frequently  how  a  second 
ecstatic  takes  up  the  cry  of  the  first  and  carries  it  on.  The 
mere  inarticulate  sounds,  or  the  disconnected  ejaculations,  of 
one  will  set  the  key  and  furnish  the  theme  for  another,  till 
something  intelligible  is  ultimately  made  out.  The  greater 
the  numbers,  and  the  higher  the  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  the 
stronger  of  course  will  be  the  sympathetic  or  mass  influence. 

Paul  is  no  exception  to  the  rule  that  the  mystical  mind  is 
not  in  itself  creative.  He  is  indeed  himself  original  and 
creative  in  high  degree.  But  Paul  acted  on  the  principle 
that  the  spirits  of  the  prophets  are  subject  to  the  prophets, 
and  that  their  ecstatic  utterances  must  be  weighed  and  tested ; 
and  this  not  only  by  their  own  moral  judgment,  but  by  that 
of  the  brotherhood  also.  He  maintained,  indeed,  that  one 
should  not  quench  the  Spirit;  but  also  that  one  must  "  prove 
all  things  "  in  the  utterances  of  ecstasy,  and  that  only  that 
which  was  good  must  be  held  fast.  He  spoke  with  the  mystic 
"  tongues  "  more  than  all  his  converts  at  Corinth ;  but  he 
was  in  favor  of  suppressing  these  manifestations  of  the  Spirit 
if  unamenable  to  "  order  " ;  and  the  first  requisite  for  that 
"  edification  "  which  was  to  be  the  condition  of  admissibility 
was  that  some  should  be  present  to  "  interpret  "  the  utter- 
ances in  a  rational  and  moral  sense.  The  exception,  then, 
is  of  the  kind  which  shows  the  true  meaning  and  application 
of  the  rule.  Deductive  logic  is  not  the  only  "  barren  vir- 
gin." The  ecstatic  imagination  itself  may  pour  forth  mere 
devastating  floods. 

10  See  e.  g.  the  excursus  on  Glossolalia  in  Lake's  Earlier  Epistles 
of  St.  Paul,  London,  1911,  pp.  241-252  and  authorities  cited. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      99 

Pardon  the  digression,  since  it  is  not  without  bearing  on 
the  subject ;  but  let  me  now  return  to  the  matter  of  the  tra- 
dition as  reported  in  Acts  of  Paul's  mystical  experience.  For 
the  reason  that  "  psychic  "  experiences  in  Acts  come  so  near 
in  many  cases  to  the  mere  conventional  "  vision  "  of  Jewish 
midrash,  we  might  well  be  inclined  to  discount  its  three  narra- 
tives of  Paul's  conversion,  which  are  not  wholly  reconcilable 
one  with  another.  Fortunately  so  much  is  confirmed  by 
Paul's  own  statements  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the 
great  Apostle  was  not  only  "  psychic  "  but  in  the  strictest 
medical  sense  even  psychopathic.  Unlike  the  author  of  Acts 
and  the  Synoptic  writers  Paul  never  mentions  the  subject  of 
demon-possession  or  exorcism.  Like  the  fourth  evangelist  he 
speaks  only  of  a  world-order,  not  of  individual  human  beings, 
as  under  control  of  evil  spirits.  But  in  a  much  higher  sense 
he  did  regard  himself  as  a  Spirit-controlled  man.  In  fact  he 
made  this  the  supreme  object  and  meaning  of  his  religion. 
He  unquestionably  believed  in  spirits  (Sai/we?)  and  prob- 
ably could,  if  he  chose,  point  to  the  record  of  more  than  one 
exorcism  among  his  "  signs  of  an  apostle."  But  his  belief 
in  the  Spirit  so  far  transcended  and  eclipsed  his  inherent 
belief  in  "  spirits,"  as  to  lift  all  his  thought  and  expression  to 
a  higher  plane. 

It  thus  appears  that  while  Paul's  own  nature  was  strongly 
affected  by  the  scenes  and  atmosphere  of  religious  enthusiasm 
in  which  he  lived,  and  his  language  (as  we  shall  presently 
see)  is  strongly  colored  by  its  imagery,  phraseology,  and  mode 
of  thought,  nevertheless  his  attitude  toward  it  is  strongly 
critical.  He  holds  its  manifestations  under  rigid  check,  and 
brings  them  to  the  bar  of  an  inexorable  moral  and  religious 
judgment.  In  retrospect  from  this  peak  of  decision  his 
thought  is  seen  to  be  truly  creative,  though  its  elements  are 
drawn  from  his  environment. 

In  Acts  Paul's  experience  is  one  of  a  more  or  less  stere- 
otyped class.     It  is  one  of  the  visions  and  revelations  of  the 


ioo         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Lord  which  are  a  regularly  assumed  factor  in  that  type  of 
Christianized  midrash  on  which  the  author  of  the  narrative 
depends.     For  this  reason  it  scarcely  emerges  from  the  crowd 
save  as  a  signal  instance  of  the  Lord's  deliverance  of  his  peo- 
ple from  the  persecutor.     In  Paul's  letters  we  also  find  refer- 
ence to  similar  mystical  experiences  by  others,  that  of  Peter 
in  particular  marking  the  beginning  of  the  series  of  manifes- 
tations which  as  a  group  was  regarded  as  the  promised  Gift 
of   the   Spirit,   and  which   in  the  form   of  "  prophecy,"  or 
Christianized  apocalypse,  continued  down  to  the  close  of  the 
second  century.     In  Paul's  own  case  the  initial  "  revelation  " 
was  followed  by  others  in  which  he  was  in  a  more  or  less 
cataleptic  physical  condition,  hearing  unutterable  things  in 
ecstasy   (whether  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body  he  could 
not  tell).     He  seemed  to  be   caught  away   into   Paradise; 
indeed  he  thinks  it  at  least  possible  that  his  spirit   (though 
not  his  "  body  ")   really  was  there.     But  as  a  sequel  to  the 
ecstasy  there  was  given  him  a  painful  physical  reaction  "  that 
he  might  not  be  exalted  overmuch."     He  felt  as  if  he  had 
been  pounded  black  and  blue  by  "  a  messenger  of  Satan,"  and 
as  if  he  had  suffered  impalement    ((jk6\o\}/  rfj  adpKi).     These 
iactors  of  Paul's  mystical  experience  might  all  be  classified 
among  the  externalities.     But  the  most  vital  factor  of  all 
came  after.     It  consisted  in  the  application  of  a  calmly  crit- 
ical and  constructive  mind   and  an   inexorably  moral  con- 
science to  the  suggestions  of  the  kindled  imagination.     Paul's 
greatness  lies  in  his  sobriety. 

As  regards  the  initial  experience  the  situation  as  described 
in  Acts  receives  general  confirmation  from  the  Epistles.  For 
it  is  clear  from  the  references  just  quoted  from  II  Cor.  12 
that  the  "  visions  and  revelations  "  belonged  to  his  Christian 
experience  only;  they  were  "  of  the  Lord,"  also  that  he  had 
the  optical  impression,  on  at  least  the  first  occasion,  of  a 
glorified  Being  whom  he  knew  to  be  the  same  "  Jesus  "  to 
whom  the  victims  of  his  persecution  looked  as  their  "  Lord." 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       101 

("  Am  /  not  an  apostle;  have  I  not  seen  Jesus  our  Lord?  " 
I  Cor.  9:1.  The  use  of  the  personal  name  "  Jesus  "  is  highly- 
significant).  Paul's  certainty  that  Jesus  is  "at  the  right 
hand  of  God  "  where  he  "  maketh  intercession  for  us,"  with- 
out which  "  raising  for  our  justification  "  we  should  be  "  yet 
in  our  sins"  (Rom.  4:25;  I  Cor  15:  12-17)  is  manifestly 
based  upon  this  mystical  experience.  But  equally  so  his  resur- 
rection doctrine,  his  argument  for  the  metamorphosis  of  the 
"  body  of  our  humiliation  "  into  a  "  body  of  glory  "  derived 
from  heaven  as  a  permanent  habitation  of  the  soul.  The  evi- 
dence of  his  own  eyes  (inwardly  "enlightened,"  Eph.  1: 
18)  convinced  him  that  the  risen  Christ  had  such  a  "  glori- 
ous body."  Nor  did  this  experience  stand  alone.  In  Gal. 
2:7,8  Paul  explicitly  sets  the  experience  by  which  God  "  en- 
ergized in  "  him  for  an  apostleship  to  the  Gentiles  in  paral- 
lelism and  comparison  with  the  corresponding  experience 
of  Peter,  which  in  I  Cor.  15:5  opens  the  series  of 
resurrection  appearances.  Equally  significant  is  the  fact 
that  the  line  between  this  series,  and  subsequent  visions 
and  revelations  not  entitled  to  the  same  authoritative  and 
apostolic  character,  is  drawn  not  between  this  series  and  his 
own  experiences,  but  after  himself.  His  experience  stands 
on  a  par  with  that  of  Peter,  the  twelve,  the  500,  James,  and 
"  all  the  Apostles  "  and  is  undivided  from  the  rest.  But  it 
was  "  last  of  all." 

These  facts  and  statements  of  Paul  corroborate  the  story  of 
Acts  as  to  the  great  occurrence  on  the  road  to  Damascus. 
They  do  more.  They  furnish  the  key  to  the  mystical  expe- 
rience of  all  who  shared  with  Paul  the  apostleship  whose  in- 
dispensable condition  was  ability  to  bear  first-hand  witness 
to  the  resurrection  of  "  Jesus  our  Lord." 

As  already  noted,11  the  inference  sometimes  drawn  from 
the  proverb  quoted  in  Acts  26:  14  that  Paul  had  misgivings 
as  to  the  Tightness  of  his  persecuting  career  is  a  misinterpre- 

11  Above,  p.  91,  note  7. 


102         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

tation  of  the  meaning  of  the  narrative  as  well  as  an  injustice 
to  Paul.  The  tradition  itself  has  no  idea  of  suggesting  the 
occurrence  of  scruples  to  his  mind.  Paul  himself  is  even 
more  emphatic  on  this  point.  The  arrest  of  his  persecuting 
career  came  to  him  as  a  complete  surprise.  It  was  not  man's 
work,  but  God's.  Acquaintance  he  must  have  had  with  the 
beliefs  of  his  victims,  with  their  ritual  of  baptism  and  of  the 
supper  which  betokened  forgiveness  through  the  blood  of 
Jesus.  These  practices  and  beliefs  of  his  victims  he  must 
have  been  familiar  with,  if  only  to  testify  against  them  and 
cause  them  to  blaspheme.  Indelible  upon  his  mental  retina 
must  have  been  the  vision  caught  from  martyrs  such  as 
Stephen  of  their  glorified  Lord,  standing  to  plead  for  them  12 
at  the  right  hand  of  God.  But  Paul  was  not  conscious  of 
misgivings  on  this  score  even  when  he  persecuted  the  Church 
of  God  beyond  measure  and  made  havoc  of  it.  His  mind 
was  indeed  ill  at  ease.  The  testimony  of  that  despairing  cry 
in  his  outline  of  experience  of  the  convert  from  legalism: 
"  O  wretched  man,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  this  dead  body 
of  sinful  flesh,"  is  of  itself  enough  to  show  that  beneath  the 
surface  of  fanatic  zeal  for  the  religion  of  Pharisaism  great 
deeps  were  being  broken  up.  But  Paul's  testimony  is  ex- 
plicit, emphatic,  undeniable,  that  he  was  utterly  unconscious 

12  The  primary  conception  of  the  function  of  the  risen  and  exalted 
Christ  was  certainly  that  of  the  advocate  or  intercessor  with  God, 
who  "  stands "  to  plead  the  cause  of  his  client.  This  was  the 
promise  of  Jesus  at  the  first  prediction  of  his  martyr-fate  (Mt. 
10:32-33;  Lk.  12:8-9;  cf>  tne  "faithful  saying,"  II  Tim.  2:11-13). 
According  to  the  current  doctrine  of  Jewish  martyrology  (IV.  Mace. 
18:7),  those  who  had  voluntarily  dedicated  their  lives  for  the  King- 
dom had  opportunity  in  an  immediate  resurrection  (''even  now 
before  the  throne  of  God  ")  to  plead  the  offering  of  their  blood  as  a 
11  propitiation  "  for  the  sin  of  Israel.  With  this  promise  of  Jesus 
to  act  as  heavenly  Intercessor  for  his  disciples,  especially  such 
as  should  be  called  to  "suffer  with  him,"  is  also  coupled  the  prom- 
ise to  "  sit  with  him  "  at  his  royal  banquet  table.  The  attitude  of 
"standing"  is  the  natural  one  for  the  Intercessor,  that  of  "sitting 
at  the  right  hand  of  God  "  of  the  victorious  Leader. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       103 

that  the  message  of  the  cross  and  resurrection  was  to  prove 
the  way  out.  If  the  inevitable  trend  of  his  hopeless  quest  for 
"  a  righteousness  of  mine  own,  even  that  which  is  of  the  law  " 
was  toward  a  gospel  of  the  grace  of  God  in  Christ,  it  was 
subconscious  reasoning  on  Paul's  part.  The  solution  came 
as  unexpectedly  as  when  the  tides  of  the  sea  sweep  away  in 
one  sudden,  overwhelming  rush  the  futile  dikes  long  silently 
and  unknowingly  undermined.  It  came  like  the  lightning 
stroke,  or  better,  to  use  his  own  sublime  figure  of  the  new 
creation,  it  was  as  though  He  who  commanded  the  light  to 
shine  out  of  the  primeval  darkness  had  shined  in  his  heart  to 
give  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  the  glory  of  the  forgiving 
God,  "  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ." 

Even  on  the  score  of  externalities  we  can  learn  but  little 
more  from  the  story  of  Acts  concerning  Paul's  mystical  expe- 
rience. Let  the  romancers  make  what  they  will  of  the  au- 
thor's reference  to  the  "  noonday  "  whose  brightness  was 
exceeded  by  the  glory  seen  by  the  inward  eye.  The  pathol- 
ogy of  sunstroke  seems  to  me  as  much  beside  the  mark  as 
diagnoses  based  on  the  figure  of  speech  Acts  9:  18  (drawn 
from  Tobit  11:12),  "  the  scales  fell  from  his  eyes."  Paul 
undoubtedly  came  "  out  of  darkness  into  marvellous  light  "; 
but  whether  in  addition  to  the  symptoms  already  described 
he  also  experienced  a  temporary  blindness  I  should  think  it 
as  difficult  to  establish  on  critical  grounds,  as  it  surely  is 
indifferent  on  religious  and  (I  imagine)  on  psychological 
grounds  as  well.  Temporary  blindness,  I  presume,  is  noth- 
ing unusual  after  similar  experiences  of  religious  ecstasy. 
On  the  other  hand  this  feature  of  the  story  could  also  easily 
take  its  origin  in  the  almost  stereotyped  metaphor  of  Eph. 
1:18.  Acts  13:11  describes  the  temporary  blindness  in- 
flicted on  Elymas  the  sorcerer  in  almost  identical  terms. 

Nor  can  we  lay  much  weight  upon  the  descriptions  in  Acts 
of  Paul's  subsequent  "  visions  and  revelations  of  the  Lord." 
The  fact  is  attested  in  II  Cor.  12:  1-4;  the  particular  narra- 


io4         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

tives  are  not  to  be  trusted  in  detail.     Thus  Acts  22:  17-21 
relates  a  vision  of  Paul  in  the  temple,  by  which  he  is  directed 
to  leave  the  work  he  had  begun  among  the  Greek-speaking 
Jews   of   Jerusalem.     But   this   is  quite   irreconcilable,    not 
only  with  the  explicit  and  emphatic  statements  of  Gal.   1 : 
1 7-24,  but  even  with  Acts  9 :  26-30.     Take  even  the  parlous 
step  of  rejecting  Paul's  own  emphatic  testimony  to  his  avoid- 
ance during  this  period  of  all  work  among  Jews  and  especially 
among  those  of  Jerusalem,  keeping  apart  from  the  mother 
community,  and  still  you  cannot  reconcile  Acts  with  itself. 
Acts  9:26-30  relates  that  he  joined   the  company  of   the 
apostolic  brotherhood  in  Jerusalem  as  the  first  step  after  his 
conversion,  Barnabas  acting  as  his  sponsor,  and  that  "  he  was 
with  them  going  in  and  going  out  at  Jerusalem,"  making  it 
his  special  work  to  evangelize  "  the  Hellenistic  Jews  "  of  the 
city.     The  same  narrative  relates  further  that  the  Jews  of 
Jerusalem  "  went  about  to  kill  him,"  so  that  his  escape  had  to 
be  effected   by   the  brethren,   who   "  brought  him   down   to 
Caesarea  "  and  so  ultimately  "  sent  him  to  Tarsus,"  whence 
Barnabas  later  brought  him  to  Antioch  in  time  for  the  First 
Missionary   Journey.     If   we  hold   to   this   account   of   the 
violent  breaking  off  of  a  promising  work  among  the  Hellenists 
of  Jerusalem,  then  what  becomes  of  the  story  of  Acts  22: 
17-21    of    the   vision    in    the   temple    commanding    Paul   to 
"  Depart,  for  I  will  send  thee  far  hence  unto  the  Gentiles?  " 
Was  Paul  this  time  disobedient  unto  the  heavenly  vision  " 
until  he  learned  wisdom  from  the  mob?     Did  he  take  up  his 
work  among  the  Hellenistic  Jews  of  Jerusalem  in  spite  of 
the  divine  mandate?     Or  have  we  here  one  of  those  literary 
"  visions  "  which  have  only  the  function  of  the  chorus  in 
Greek  tragedy,  to  acquaint  the  reader  with  the  inner  signifi- 
cance of  the  drama? 

The  case  stands  somewhat  better  with  Acts  27 :  23-26, 
which,  even  if  it  be  one  of  the  "  literary  "  type  of  visions, 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      105 

has  a  certain  element  of  historical  value.  For  we  can 
authenticate  the  ideas  expressed  in  this  vision  in  the  night  of 
shipwreck  from  the  Epistles,  even  though  no  epistle  belongs 
exactly  to  this  date  or  mentions  the  part  here  played  by 
Paul.  The  diary  of  Paul's  companion  which  in  expanded 
form  constitutes  the  basis  of  these  chapters  of  Acts,  tells  how 
the  whole  ship's  company  of  276  persons,  including  not  only 
the  pilot-captain,  but  the  officer  in  charge  of  the  prisoners,  of 
whom  Paul  was  one,  put  themselves  under  his  direction. 
So  extraordinary  was  the  impression  made  by  his  serene  cour- 
age that  one  and  all  owed  their  escape  to  him,  and  practically 
acknowledged  the  fact  by  submitting  to  his  temporary  control. 
Whatever  allowance  we  may  be  disposed  to  make  for  the 
enthusiasm  of  Paul's  admirer,  the  story  stands  too  near  the 
fact,  is  too  well  substantiated  in  its  main  data,  to  permit  any 
doubt  on  the  commanding  influence  exerted  by  Paul's  extraor- 
dinary personality.  There  is  mutual  corroboration  between 
Epistles  and  narrative  in  this.  But  we  may  go  a  little  further 
still.  According  to  Acts  27:  23-26  Paul  took  this  com- 
mand of  the  ship's  company  in  the  name  of  a  vision  granted 
to  him  in  the  very  night  of  their  utter  despair.  The  narra- 
tor is  not  concerned  to  tell  us  how  Paul's  mind  could  under 
these  circumstances  be  turned  in  upon  itself;  whether  he 
suddenly  lapsed  into  oblivion  of  the  roaring  tempest,  the  crash 
of  the  rigging  and  the  cries  of  the  frightened,  half-mutinous 
crew,  or  perhaps  slept  after  tumult  had  given  place  to  leth- 
argy. "  This  night,"  said  Paul  to  the  company,  "  there  stood 
by  me  an  angel  of  the  God  whose  I  am,  saying  Fear  not, 
Paul,  thou  must  stand  before  Caesar:  and  lo,  God  hath 
granted  thee  all  that  sail  with  thee."  Whether  we  regard 
the  vision  as  real  or  "  literary,"  let  us  at  least  take  home  its 
sense  and  meaning.  Paul's  confidence  is  based  on  a  convic- 
tion that  he  is  an  ambassador  for  God,  and  that  as  such  he 
is  guaranteed   safe-conduct.     Not   only   so,    but   in    answer 


106         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

to  his  intercession  this  safe-conduct  has  been  extended  to 
cover  "  all  that  sail  with  him."  Now  there  is  no  reference 
to  the  incidents  of  this  voyage  in  any  of  the  later  letters  of 
Paul.  But  there  are  two  things  which  recall  the  tone  and 
conception  of  this  "  vision  "  in  the  earlier  letters  which  im- 
mediately precede  the  journey  and  in  which  he  speaks  of 
Rome  as  the  long-desired  goal  of  his  missionary  ambition. 
These  two  are  worth  noting  for  their  bearing  on  the  char- 
acter and  personality  of  Paul,  as  well  as  on  the  reliability 
of  Acts.  One  is  the  tone  of  sublime  confidence  and  mastery 
of  circumstance,  the  tone  of  a  man  convinced  that  the  very 
life  that  he  lives  is  not  his,  but  God  through  Christ  working 
in  him.  To  this  kind  of  man  gravitates  the  mastery  and 
leadership  in  times  of  crisis,  almost  in  spite  of  himself. 
The  other  point  of  coincidence  is  the  declaration  of  Paul  in 
II  Cor.  5:20-6:  10,  uttered  in  behalf  of  himself  and  his 
fellow  "  ministers  of  God,"  that  in  all  their  afflictions, 
necessities,  distresses,  stripes,  imprisonments,  tumults,  .  .  . 
dying,  yet  behold  we  live,  nevertheless  "  we  are  ambassadors 
on  behalf  of  God."  In  a  later  epistle  (Philemon  9)  the 
figure  recurs.  Paul  is  now  an  "  ambassador  in  a  chain." 
What  we  may  probably  regard  as  the  very  latest  authentic 
fragment  from  his  pen  (II  Tim.  4:17)  reflects  the  same 
tone,  and  in  part  the  same  language,  as  the  story  of  Acts, 
with  its  unterrified,  masterful  personality.  It  describes  how 
the  ambassador  delivered  his  message  before  the  unrighteous 
imperial  judge  in  words  that  recall  those  of  Acts:  "The 
Lord  stood  by  me  and  gave  me  power  and  I  was  delivered 
out  of  the  lion's  mouth."  Fact,  or  figure  of  speech,  the 
scene  of  Paul's  rallying  the  courage  of  that  shipwrecked  crew 
with  the  declaration  of  his  vision  depicts  his  true  personality. 
He  faced  the  rage  of  elements,  of  beasts,  of  men,  thrones  of 
princes,  or  of  demonic  powers,  as  a  conscious  "  ambassador 
for  God." 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       107 

§  4.   The  Inward  Experience 

From  the  secondary  source  in  the  Book  of  Acts,  serviceable 
when  controlled  by  the  primary  of  Paul's  own  words,  and 
with  due  regard  to  the  true  nature  of  the  book  and  the  pur- 
pose, point  of  view  and  degree  of  reliability  of  its  sources, 
let  us  turn  next  to  the  great  Epistles,  which  have  come 
through  the  fire  of  criticism  13  not  only  unscathed  but  vin- 
dicated, as  I  believe  no  other  writings  ever  have  been,  in  their 
henceforth  established  authenticity. 

Psychological  criticism  may  utilize  at  least  the  great 
Epistles  to  the  Galatians,  the  Romans  and  the  Corinthians 
with  perfect  confidence  that  they  reflect  the  real  Paul,  and  in 
an  intimate  self-portraiture.  Whatever  other  epistles  are 
added  is  hardly  a  matter  of  serious  concern  to  such  an  en- 
quiry as  ours,  because  the  student  of  religious  mysticism  is 
interested  in  the  defense  of  Paul's  apostleship  by  depiction  of 
his  religious  experiences,  and  with  this  the  four  major 
Epistles  are  largely  concerned. 

As  we  have  seen,  this  defense  was  made  against  those 
who  opposed  Paul's  authority  in  Galatia,  mainly  by  a  retro- 
spect over  his  conversion,  calling,  and  early  ministry  in 
Gal.  1:  11-2:21.  We  have  as  the  finale  to  this  defense  a 
summing  up  of  his  own  case  and  that  of  his  fellow  "  min- 
isters of  God  "  against  a  similar  onslaught  at  Corinth  in 
II  Cor.  3:  1-4:  10,  a  more  instrospective  interpretation  of 
the  same  vocational  experience.  Besides  this  direct  defense 
of  the  Apostle's  call  from  God  there  are  very  important 
side-lights  upon  it  in  First  Corinthians,  such  as  the  com- 
parison of  his  own  unproclaimed  mystical  insight,  or  gnosis, 
with  the  "  wisdom  "  so  highly  rated  at  Corinth  apparently  by 
the  followers  of  Apollos.  This  defense  of  Paul's  gnosis,  or 
mystical  insight  covers  I  Cor.  1:  18-3:  9,  and  there  are  fur- 
ther references  to  the  attacks  upon  his  apostleship  in  9:1, 

13  Gloel,  Die  Paulinischcn  Brief e  im  Feuer  der  Kritik,  1890. 


108        AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

which  furnish  the  indispensable  historical  occasion  and  per- 
spective. This  Corinthian  correspondence  furnishes  also 
most  serviceable  practical  illustrations  of  Paul's  sense  of 
superhuman  authority  in  the  directions  laid  down  for  church 
discipline  in  4:18-5:5  and  elsewhere.  We  have  already 
availed  ourselves  of  the  references  to  his  endowment  with 
11  tongues  "  and  other  "  spiritual  gifts  "  in  I  Cor.  12-14  and 
of  the  section  in  II  Cor.  12:  1-9  concerning  his  "  visions  and 
revelations  of  the  Lord  "  and  his  "  stake  (o-koAo^)  in  the 
flesh,"  and  have  noted  the  bearing  of  I  Cor.  15:  1-11  (where 
Paul  links  on  his  own  experience  to  that  of  those  who  were 
Apostles  before  him)  on  the  psychology  of  the  resurrection 
appearances  in  general. 

Romans  also  has  its  contribution  to  this  spiritual  auto- 
biography. Thus  Rom.  7 :  7-8 :  1 1  describes  the  deliverance 
of  the  slave  of  sin,  who  finds  the  law  only  the  strength  of 
sin,  an  ally  to  his  enemy  rather  than  to  himself,  because  of 
the  inherent  propensities  of  sinful  flesh ;  but  is  raised  to  a  new, 
triumphant  and  eternally  expansive  life  by  the  infusion  of  the 
Spirit  of  Adoption.  This  description  is  of  course  intended 
to  be  typical ;  but  we  should  not  have  the  personal  "  I  "  and 
"  me  "  were  it  not  also  a  true  reflection  of  Paul's  own  reli- 
gious experiences.  With  this  might  be  connected  Phil.  3 : 
4-14,  both  testimonies  of  great  value  were  it  our  intention 
to  extend  our  survey  over  Paul's  entire  religious  experience. 
But  it  is  needful  to  fix  reasonable  limits,  and  the  study 
of  Paul's  mystical  experience  will  be  best  subserved  if  we 
here  confine  ourselves  to  its  one  supreme  example,  the  occa- 
sion to  which  he  is  obliged  by  the  opposition  of  his  detractors 
to  revert  again  and  again,  the  vision  of  the  risen  Christ  at 
his  conversion ;  for  this  experience  furnished  the  ground  and 
warrant  of  his  apostleship,  and  was  the  source  of  his  gospel 
as  well. 

The  comparison  already  made  between  the  current  report 
of  Acts  and  the  implications  of  the  Epistles  will  in  the  main 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL        109 

suffice  as  a  survey  of  the  preceding  course  of  events  both  out- 
ward and  inward.  The  statement  of  Gal.  1:21-22  that 
when  Paul  "  came  into  the  regions  of  Syria  and  Cilicia  " 
after  his  stay  in  Arabia  and  his  first  visit  to  Jerusalem,  three 
years  after  his  conversion,  he  "  was  still  unknown  by  face 
unto  the  churches  in  Judaea  "  is  manifestly  irreconcilable 
with  Acts  9:  26-30;  but  it  will  hardly  bear  the  strain  which 
W.  Heitmiiller  puts  upon  it  in  maintaining  that  Paul's  entire 
career  up  to  this  point  had  been  confined  to  regions  outside  of 
Palestine.14  It  is  true  that  no  great  weight  can  be  attached 
to  the  connection  so  easy  to  make  between  Paul's  name  and 
that  of  the  eminent  Rabbi  Gamaliel  the  Elder,  which  appears 
in  Acts  22 :  3.  It  is  also  true  that  there  is  a  mental  gap  in 
the  statement  of  Gal.  1:17  "I  returned  to  Damascus," 
which  it  would  be  simplest  to  fill  out  as  Heitmiiller  demands 
by  the  words  "  where,  as  you  know,  I  was  resident,"  or  some- 
thing to  that  effect.  But  in  view  of  the  explicit  reference 
in  Gal.  1 :  13  to  the  familiarity  of  the  readers  with  the  story 
of  Paul's  persecutions  it  is  certainly  also  possible  to  supply 
the  lack  by  words  such  as  these:  "  whither,  as  you  know,  I 
was  bent  in  my  career  of  persecution."  To  set  aside  as  un- 
historical  the  entire  tradition  of  Paul's  rabbinic  training  in 
Jerusalem  on  no  better  grounds  than  these  is  hardly  war- 
ranted. The  difficulty  we  have  in  explaining  his  lack  of 
earlier  contact  with  the  movement  of  John  the  Baptist  and 
of  Jesus  is  more  serious,  but  a  temporary  absence  from  Jeru- 
salem might  account  for  it. 

On  the  other  hand  the  absence  of  any  reference,  direct  or 
indirect,  in  any  of  the  Epistles  to  Stephen,  the  lack  of  any 
trace  of  the  story  of  the  early  Hellenistic  propaganda  in 
Jerusalem  and  southward  to  Philistia  and  Egypt,  as  well  as 
of  anything  attributed  to  its  influence,  has  a  certain  signifi- 
cance. It  tends  to  corroborate  the  general  verdict  of  the 
critics  of  Acts  6-8   that  the   figure  of   Saul  of  Tarsus   in 

^ZNJV.  XIII.  4,  1912,  s.  v.  Zum  Problem  Paulus  und  Jesus. 


no         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

7:58;  8:  1  and  3  is  brought  in  too  late,  too  haltingly,  and 
with  too  great  disruption  of  the  context  to  be  original.15 
At  all  events  nothing  in  the  Pauline  Epistles  suggests  the 
slightest  influence  from  this  quarter.  If  Paul  heard  such 
utterances  as  the  preaching  and  defense  of  Stephen  in  Acts  7 
they  must  have  been  simply  typical  of  many.  Yet  even 
this  implies  much.  It  implies  at  least  familiarity  with  the 
two  central  observances  of  "  the  faith  "  of  which  the  perse- 
cutor "  made  havock  "  (Gal.  1 :  23),  and  the  religious  value 
attached  to  them.  Especially  is  it  certain  that  Paul  would 
not  have  persecuted  this  "  Way  "  unto  the  death  had  not  the 
doctrine  so  clearly  declared  in  I  Cor.  15:3  to  have  been 
traditionally  "  received  "  by  him  (irape\a(3ov) ,  and  in  I  Cor. 
11:23-25  even  as  "received  (-n-apeXafSov)  from  (airo)  the 
the  Lord,"  been  clearly  present  to  his  mind  as  "  a  Way  of 
justification  " 16  incompatible  with  "  that  which  is  of  the 
law."  The  mutual  exclusiveness  of  the  two  Ways  of  justi- 
fication is  merely  reiterated  from  the  opposite  standpoint  in 
dispute  with  Peter,  Gal.  2:  15-21.  On  the  fundamental 
point  of  his  "gospel  of  reconciliation  "  (II  Cor.  5:  18,  19), 
therefore,  it  was  not  instruction  as  to  the  contents  and  mean- 
ing of  the  Christian  "  Way  "  that  was  required  by  the  per- 
secutor. Indeed  he  would  seem  to  have  had  much  clearer 
insight  than  the  very  chief  Apostle  into  the  full  sweep  of 
its  implications.  What  was  required  to  transform  the  enemy 
of  the  faith  into  its  most  ardent  and  effective  missionary  was 
merely  the  reversal  of  his  point  of  view.  He  now  saw  it 
as  a  "  way  of  life." 

The  very  form  of  Paul's  vision  is  as  certainly  part  of  the 

15  With  these  references  must  of  course  be  classed  that  in  22:20. 
On  the  episode  of  Stephen  and  the  Seven  and  its  relation  to  the  other 
sources  of  Acts,  see  Bacon  s.  v.  "  Stephen's  Speech  "  in  Yale  Bicen- 
tennial Contributions  to  Semitic  and  Biblical  Studies,  N.  Y.,  1901.  _ 

10  On  the  significance  of  the  phrase  in  Mt.  21:32,  see  Bacon  in 
Expositor,  VIII,  93  (Sept.,  1918),  s.  <v.  "John  the  Baptist  as  Preacher 
of  Justification  by  Faith." 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      in 

real  (though  violently  rejected)  furniture  of  his  mind,  as 
the  implied  substance  of  his  gospel.  Were  we  to  take  as 
authentic  fact  the  participation  of  Paul  in  the  trial  scene  of 
Stephen  he  must  have  been  eye  and  ear  witness  of  that  apos- 
trophe of  the  martyr  to  his  heavenly  Advocate:  "  Behold,  I 
see  the  heavens  opened,  and  the  Son  of  Man  standing  on 
the  right  hand  of  God."  We  need  not  take  this  participa- 
tion as  literal  fact,  any  more  than  we  take  the  transfigured 
face  of  the  martyr  "  as  it  were  the  face  of  an  angel,"  or  the 
statement  that  he  "  saw  the  glory  of  God,"  as  literal  fact, 
but  we  cannot  help  taking  this  as  a  typical  description,  and  a 
correct  and  characteristic  one,  of  scenes  which  the  persecutor 
Saul  actually  did  witness.  Doubtless  when  he  went  up  to 
Jerusalem  "  to  hear  the  story  of  Peter"  (IcrToprjaai  Tlirpov, 
Gal.  i:  1 8)  his  first  enquiry  was  as  to  that  epoch-making 
first  appearance  of  this  risen  Lord.  But  the  general  nature 
of  the  reply,  and  the  outline  features  of  the  vision  of  the 
Lord  "  glorified  "  "  at  the  right  hand  of  God  "  cannot  pos- 
sibly have  been  unknown  to  Paul  from  long  before  his  con- 
version. He  knew  them  from  his  victims.  Moreover,  as 
we  have  seen,  it  belongs  to  the  very  theory  of  vision,  as  then 
understood,  that  the  manifestations  should  have  the  same 
general  appearance.  Even  apart  from  the  inherent  tendency 
of  ecstatic  vision  to  repeat  the  known  experience  of  others, 
the  testimony  would  have  been  viewed  with  suspicion  had  it 
not  described  "  the  same  Lord  "  in  substantially  the  same 
conditions  of  "  glory."  It  is  the  very  object  of  the  vision  " 
(opa/xa)  of  the  Transfiguration  to  convey  some  idea  of  this 
condition  of  the  "  glorified,"  and  for  this  reason  it  is  con- 
tinually so  employed,  as  in  II  Peter  1 :  16-18,  the  Apoc.  Petri 
(beginning),  and  "  the  Elders  "  in  Irenaeus,  Haer.  V.  v.  1. 

All  this  belongs  among  the  things  of  which  we  should  need 
only  to  be  reminded.  The  data  of  Paul's  mystical  experi- 
ence were  all  present  to  his  consciousness,  however  unwel- 
come, just  as  the  cold  elements  of  an  amalgam  may  lie  to- 


ii2         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

gether  side  by  side  within  the  crucible,  and  give  no  sign  of 
what  is  to  be,  until  the  sudden  lightning-flame  of  the  voltaic 
arc  fuses  them  into  a  new  creation.  What  we  need  most 
to  know  is  the  source  and  nature  of  this  lightning-flame, 
so  far  as  it  is  given  to  human  eye  to  look  upon  it  unblinded. 
And  of  this  too  the  Apostle  does  not  leave  us  wholly  in 
ignorance. 

Paul  was  indeed  without  conscious  misgivings  as  to  his  per- 
secuting course.  Whatever  it  must  have  cost  that  nature  of 
marvellous  tenderness  to  dip  his  hands  day  after  day  in  the 
blood  of  men  like  Stephen,  he  verily  thought  he  did  God 
service,17  and  in  that  conviction  he  steeled  himself  to  the 
hideous  task.  But  while  his  unconsciousness  of  prepara- 
tion is  so  complete  that  he  cannot  too  strongly  emphasize  the 
fact  that  the  overturn  was  not  his  doing  but  the  utterly  un- 
foreseeable act  of  God  (Gal.  i:  15),  he  also  lays  before  us 
without  reserve  the  evidence  that  his  mind  was  continually 
advancing  toward  a  condition  of  unstable  equilibrium  from 
which  the  overturn  would  be  as  inevitable  as  return  would 
be  unthinkable.  He  was  seeking  "  a  justification  of  mine 
own,  even  that  which  is  of  the  law." 

How  long  would  the  crisis  be  postponed?  No  answer  to 
this  question  can  be  so  eloquent  as  the  Pauline  letters  them- 
selves. The  overturn  would  be  inevitable  from  the  moment 
the  struggling  soul  became  inwardly  conscious  that  the  de- 
mand of  "  the  law  "  had  passed  the  limit  set  by  the  inherited 
"  weakness "  of  human  flesh.  And  were  we  to  choose  a 
moment  when  this  impasse  would  be  reached  in  Paul's 
case,  what  other  could  be  compared  with  that  when  he  ap- 
proached Damascus,  where  the  bloody  work  of  persecution 
was  to  begin  afresh. 

17  The  expression  is  from  the  speech  in  Acts  26:9;  but  it  is  con- 
firmed by  a  deutero-Pauline  hand  in  I  Tim.  1:13,  and  (more  re- 
liably) by  the  absence  from  the  authentic  letters  of  any  trace  of 
self-condemnation  for  more  than  unintended  wrong  on  this  score. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      113 

It  lies  outside  our  purpose  to  consider  the  references  in 
II  Cor.  11 :  23-33  to  Paul's  experiences  as  a  missionary  dur- 
ing the  unrecorded  decade  of  his  work  "  in  Syria  and 
Cilicia,"  and  even  to  take  extensive  note  of  the  ecstatic  ex- 
periences described  in  II  Cor  12:  1-4,  which  from  its  date 
("  fourteen  years  ago  ")  must  have  fallen  within  this  period. 
Next  to  his  initial  experience  it  must  have  been  Paul's  great- 
est, else  he  would  not  go  so  far  back  to  recall  it.  Needless 
to  point  out  that  if  such  experiences  could  be  used  as  proofs 
of  superhuman  direction  and  authority,  occasions  of  "  glo- 
rying," they  must  surely  have  been  sought  with  utmost  de- 
sire, and  with  the  application  of  such  approved  methods  as 
fasting,  vigil  and  prayer.  In  Paul's  own  case  we  can  well 
believe  that  another  "  revelation  of  the  Lord,"  and  in  a  more 
favoring  attitude,  would  be  ardently  desired  by  the  Apostle 
to  the  Gentiles,  especially  amid  the  perils  and  difficulties 
which  are  described  in  the  preceding  paragraph  (11 :  24-33) 
as  surrounding  his  early  course.  If  Paul  prayed  for  the 
experience,  and  was  in  measure  heard  (though  he  says 
nothing  in  this  case  of  an  envisagement  of  the  Lord,  but 
only  of  having  been  "  caught  up  into  the  third  heaven,"  the 
abode  of  angels  and  of  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect), 
the  boon  was  not  without  painful  physical  reactions.  The 
trance,  during  which  he  seemed  to  be  "  out  of  the  body,"  was 
followed  by  a  "  weakness  "  interpreted  by  the  Apostle  as  an 
angel  of  Satan  sent  to  beat  him  with  his  fists  "  lest  I  should 
be  exalted  overmuch."  Against  this  "  stake  in  the  flesh  "  he 
also  thrice  besought  the  Lord  (i.  e.,  the  glorified  Jesus),  but 
with  no  more  than  the  answer  (an  audition?)  "  My  favor 
sufficeth  thee;  for  the  power  (SuW/xis)  that  comes  from  me  is 
made  perfect  in  weakness." 

It  is  probable  from  Paul's  use  of  the  plural  ("  I  will  come 
to  visions  and  revelations  of  the  Lord,"  ver.  1 ;  "  by  reason 
of  the  greatness  of  the  revelations,"  ver.  7.)  that  other  expe- 
riences of  trance  and  ecstasy  followed  at  intervals,  though 


ii4         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

perhaps  in  a  diminishing  scale.  But  we  are  more  concerned 
with  that  of  which  these  were  mere  echoes  and  after-glows. 
It  is  time  that  we  turned  to  a  reexamination  of  the  letters  in 
the  hope  that  we  may  recognize  reflections  of  this  first  great 
mystical  experience.  We  shall  also  bear  in  mind,  however, 
that  the  letters  themselves,  as  well  as  Acts,  require  interpre- 
tation by  methods  of  historical  and  literary  criticism;  since 
even  Paul  himself,  to  make  plain  to  his  readers  the  true 
bearing  and  significance  of  his  "  mystery,"  must  needs  em- 
ploy the  modes  of  thought  and  modes  of  expression  current 
in  his  religious  environment  and  theirs. 

§  5.   The  Subject's  own  Interpretation. 

It  may  seem  strange  if  I  maintain  that  of  all  fields  of 
New  Testament  study  it  is  this  most  ancient  and  hackneyed 
ground  of  Pauline  phraseology  and  mode  of  thought  that  has 
been  made  most  fruitful  to  the  historical  exegete  by  the 
course  of  modern  discovery.  Leave  superlatives  aside. 
There  can  at  least  be  no  question  of  the  immense  importance 
of  the  history  and  literature  of  contemporary  Hellenistic 
religions,  the  religions  of  personal  redemption  called 
"  mysteries  "  from  their  dealing  in  and  claim  to  be  based  upon 
mystical  revelations,  the  reAerat  (as  they  are  also  called)  of 
Isis,  Serapis,  Adonis,  Attis,  Osiris,  Dionysus,  Asklepios  and 
the  rest.  The  propaganda  of  these  Forerunners  and  Rivals 
of  Christianity 1S  was  sweeping  over  the  Graeco-Roman 
world  in  Paul's  time,  and  coloring  both  its  religious  phrase- 
ology and  modes  of  thought.  Reitzenstein>  Dieterich,  Hep- 
ding,  Cumont,  Rohde,  Anrich,  and  in  English  Frazer  and 
Kennedy,  have  poured  a  flood  of  light  upon  the  language  and 
conceptions  of  the  Pauline  Epistles  from  the  literature  and 

_  18  Such  is  the  title  of  a  recent  voluminous  compend  of  the  mate- 
rial by  Legge. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      115 

monuments  of  this  comparatively  obscure  and  popular  type 
of  religious  life,  and  make  it  impossible  any  longer  to  view 
the  mysticism  of  Paul  in  the  light  of  a  generation  ago. 

But  rather  than  go  back  to  these  too  little  known  authori- 
ties let  me  refer  to  a  very  recent  and  admirable  summary 
in  the  chapter  headed  "  Faith  and  Mystical  Union  "  in  Dr. 
W.  Morgan's  Religion  and  Theology  of  Paul  (1917).  I 
must  indeed  demur  at  the  outset  to  one  of  Dr.  Morgan's 
declarations  which  seems  likely  to  produce  a  false  impression, 
if  indeed  it  does  not  wholly  overstate  the  case.  It  is  his 
statement  (p.  123)  that  the  mystical  strain  in  the  religion 
of  Paul  "  formed  no  part  of  his  Jewish  heritage."  True  the 
statement  is  doubly  qualified.  Dr.  Morgan  first  limits  his 
definition  of  Pauline  mysticism  to  "  the  idea  of  a  divine  in- 
dwelling, or  of  a  relation  of  God  that  transcends  all  personal 
relations,"  so  that  Paul's  conception  might  be  said  to  differ 
so  widely  from  the  Old  Testament  idea  of  the  Spirit-filled 
prophet,  or  other  agent  of  Jehovah,  as  to  be  "altogether  for- 
eign to  it."  In  the  second  place  he  recognizes  that  "  in  the 
later  Jewish  writings,  when,  as  in  Philo,  there  has  been  in- 
fluence from  the  side  of  Oriental  religion,"  we  do  find  true 
mysticism.  But  this  hardly  disposes  of  the  case.  For,  to 
begin  with,  Paul  is  himself  as  truly  a  Hellenistic  Jew  as 
Philo,  and  quite  as  much  exposed  at  Tarsus,  one  of  the 
earliest  seats  of  the  Mithraic  mysteries,  and  a  stronghold  of 
Platonized  Stoicism,  as  Philo  at  Alexandria,  to  "  influence 
from  the  side  of  Oriental  religion."  Moreover  Paul  is  just 
as  fully  persuaded  as  "Jewish  Apocalyptic"  (to  which  Dr. 
Morgan  declares  mysticism  to  be  no  less  "  foreign  "  than  to 
the  Old  Testament)  that  religious  knowledge  directly  and 
supernaturally  conveyed  from  God  (gnosis)  is  the  prerogative 
of  Israel.  The  Jew  rests  upon  tor  ah  (revelation)  ;  he  glories 
in  (knowing)  God  and  (having)  the  knowledge  of  His 
will,   possessing  in  the  Torah   the  standard   of   knowledge 


n6         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

(ttjv    fxopcf)Mcnv    rrjs    yvuwraos)    and    of    the    truth    (Rom.    2: 
17-20).     Paul's  feeling  likewise,  with  regard  to  his  "  knowl- 
edge of  all  mysteries  "  is  the  precise  analogue  of  that  of  the 
apocalyptic  writers,  who  hold  that  they  alone  are  mystically 
empowered  to  solve  the  riddles  of  man's  duty  and  destiny  in 
the  mysterious  universe  in  which  he  finds  himself.     In  this 
age     "  prophecy "      is     understood     as     an      "  unveiling " 
(dTTOKaAt^t?,    revelatio)    of   the   invisible  world.     It   is   the 
typical  endowment  of  the  gift  of  prophecy,  to  which  Paul 
certainly  laid  claim,  to  "  know  all  mysteries  and  all  knowl- 
edge. "  (I  Cor.  13:  2;  Eph.  1:8-9;  3:3-6).     This  "  anoint- 
ing "  gives  the  "  Son  "  who  is  known  of  God,  the  key  to  all 
knowledge,  and  a  superiority  to  all  teachers  (I  Jn.  2:27)  ; 
for  to  him  are  known  the  real  nature,  wishes  and  purpose  of 
the  Creator,  while  Gentile  philosophy  toils  in  vain  over  the 
problem.     Hence  the  apocalyptic  writers  never  tire  of  in- 
sisting that  these  things  are  matters  of  revelation  (fxva-Trjpia) 
and   as  such   only   to   be  "  spiritually "   known.     They  are 
secrets  "  hid  from  the  foundation  of  the  world,"  not  merely 
from  men  but  from  angels,  attainable  only  by  the  men  to 
whom  the  Creator  talked  as  he  talked  with  Moses  "  face  to 
face";  men  who,  like  Enoch,  Elias  and   (according  to  con- 
temporary  tradition)    Moses,   were   "taken   up"   into   His 
presence,  or,  like  Esdras,  after  ascetic  preparation  were  super- 
naturally  inspired  to  "  renew  "  the  Torah. 

Israel's  claim,  accordingly,  to  be  the  chosen  instrument  of 
divine  revelation  to  the  world  is  exactly  expressed  by  the 
title  "  mystagogue  "  ( nvaTayuyos ) .  It  is  this  gnosis  to  which 
he  was  elected  by  the  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth  that  both 
proves  him  the  chosen  "  son  "  and  commissions  him  with  his 
missionary  task.  The  world  groping  in  darkness  after  God 
waits  for  the  people  elected  to  be  "  a  light  to  lighten  the 
Gentiles,"  and  Jewish  "  Wisdom "  gives  devout  thanks 
to  the  Creator  of  all  that  it  was  His  inscrutable  decree 
(euSoKi'o.)  to  hide  these  things  from  the  wise  and  deep-think- 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      117 

ing,  and  to  "  reveal  "  them  to  "  babes."  19  For  it  is  not 
originally  a  Christian,  but  a  pre-Christian  conception  of 
Jewish  lyric  Wisdom,  a  conception  that  is  reflected  both  in 
thought  and  language  in  Paul's  defense  of  his  gnosis  in  I 
Cor.  1:8-3:9,  that  no  man  can  "know  the  Father"  save 
the  chosen  Son  (Israel),  and  that  humble  proselyte  to 
whomsoever  the  Son  (as  mystagogue)  willeth  to  reveal 
Him.20 

As  we  see,  Paul's  sympathies  are  entirely  on  the  Jewish 
side  in  this  conflict  between  the  claims  of  Gentile 
philosophy  and  Jewish  revelation.  For  the  conflict  is  at  its 
acme  in  the  apocalyptic  literature  of  Paul's  period,  though 
its  roots  go  back  at  least  to  the  Deuteronomic  writer  who 
declares  to  Israel  in  Moses'  name  as  regards  the  Torah: 

This  is  your  wisdom  and  your  understanding  in  the  sight  of  the 
Gentiles  which  shall  hear  all  these  ordinances  and  say,  Surely 
this  great  nation  is  a  wise  and  understanding  people;  for  what  great 
nation  hath  a  god  so  nigh  unto  them  as  Jehovah  our  God  is  when- 
soever we  call  upon  him. 

Paul  not  only  endorses  th>  claim  of  Mosaic  gnosis,  but 
expresses  himself  in  the  very  language  of  contemporary 
Jewish  Apocalypse.  Take  for  example  the  boast  of  Moses 
in  the  contemporary  or  slightly  earlier  Assumptio  Mosis 
1:  12-14,  concerning  the  hidden  mystery  of  the  purpose  of 
the  Creator.  For  in  Gen.  1 :  26-30  this  purpose  is  declared 
to  be  the  cosmic  lordship  of  man,  but  the  current  Jewish 
interpretation  {A  p.  Bar.  xiv  18;  II  Esdr.  vi.  55,  etc.)  rep- 
resents it  as  the  universal  lordship  of  the  seed  of  Abraham, 
whom  God  made  "heir  of  the  world"   (Rom.  4:  13). 

19  A  characteristic  term  in  Hellenistic  religion  for  the  neophyte; 
cf.  I  Cor.  3:1. 

20  On  the  true  meaning  of  this  characteristic  Jewish  Wisdom 
hymn  placed  in  the  mouth  of  Jesus  in  Mt.  11:25-30;  Lk.  10:21-22, 
see  Bacon,  Harv.  Theol.  Rev.  IX  (Oct.,  1916),  s.  v.  "The  Son  as 
Organ  of  Revelation,"  with  authorities  cited. 


u8         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

God  hath  created  the  world  (says  Moses  in  the  apocalypse)  on 
behalf  of  His  people.  But  He  was  not  pleased  to  make  known  this 
purpose  from  the  foundation  of  the  world,  in  order  that  the  Gen- 
tiles might  thereby  be  convicted,  yea,  to  their  own  humiliation  might 
(by  their  vain  and  contradictory  speculations)  convict  one  another. 
Accordingly  He  designed  and  devised  me  (Moses)  and  prepared 
me  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  that  I  should  be  the  mediator 
of  His  covenant. 

Not  only  is  this  purpose  of  the  Creator  a  mystery  hid  since 
the  foundation  of  the  world  from  all  save  the  people  of  the 
revelation.  It  is  a  secret  even  from  the  angels,  who  vainly 
seek  to  peer  into  these  things.  The  (demonic)  "  rulers  of 
this  world  "  prove  their  ignorance  by  their  death-dealing 
hostility  to  "  the  Lord  of  glory"  (I  Cor.  2:6-9).  Their 
confusion  and  ruin  will  come  when  the  groaning  creation 
is  delivered  from  their  evil  sway,  and  committed  to  its  right- 
ful heirs  in  the  "  manifestation  of  the  sons  of  God  "  (Rom. 
8:  19-21).  Paul  is  not  less  convinced  of  the  hiding  of  this 
mystery  from  the  angels  than  is  the  apocalyptic  writer  of 
the  Secrets  of  Enoch  (xxiv.  3;  xl.  3,  etc.),  who  repeatedly 
vaunts  the  knowledge  of  this  favorite  agent  of  cosmological 
revelation  as  exceeding  that  of  the  angels,  and  depicts 
Enoch's  interview  with  the  Creator  in  person  as  beginning 
with  the  assurance: 

Enoch,  the  things  which  thou  seest  at  rest  and  in  motion  were 
created  by  me.  I  will  tell  thee  now,  even  from  the  first,  what 
things  I  created  from  the  non-existent,  and  what  visible  things  from 
the  invisible.  Not  even  to  my  angels  have  I  told  my  secrets,  nor 
have  I  informed  them  of  their  origin,  nor  have  they  understood 
my  infinite  creation  which  I  tell  thee  of  to-day. 

It  may  not  be  correct  to  speak  of  this  Jewish  doctrine 
of  the  hidden  "  mystery  "  of  God  conveyed  through  revela- 
tion, and  only  to  be  "  spiritually  "  known,  as  "  mysticism  "; 
and  it  would  be  manifestly  improper,  as  we  ourselves  have 
been  at  pains  to  show,  to  treat  these  alleged  "  visions  "  of 
the  apocalyptic  writers  as  actual  ecstasy.     The  vision  form, 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       119 

in  the  Enoch  apocalypses  at  least,  is  purely  conventional. 
Still,  when  we  find  the  Apostle  Paul  adopting  an  obviously 
analogous  standpoint,  contrasting  in  I  Cor.  1:  18-2:  16  the 
spiritual  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God's  purpose  in  the 
creation  wThich  is  his  through  possession  of  the  Spirit  of 
Christ,21  with  the  foolishness  of  the  wisdom  of  the  world 
and  the  ignorance  of  even  the  angelic  powers,  we  must  at 
all  events  either  subtract  this  element  from  the  content 
of  his  mystical  experience,  or  else  demur  to  Dr.  Morgan's 
statement  that  mysticism  of  the  Pauline  type  is  u  foreign 
to  Jewish  Apocalyptic." 

In  distinction  from  the  Alexandrian  Apollos,  Paul  had 
reserved  his  gnosis  from  the  Corinthians  in  favor  of  a 
simpler  gospel.  But  he  certainly  claimed  the  full  endow- 
ment of  the  Christian  mystagogue.  In  I  Cor.  2:  6-16  he  sets 
forth  a  gnosis  concerning  the  things  unrevealed  to  outward 
eye  or  ear  pertaining  to  the  purpose  of  God  in  preparing 
the  creation  as  a  "free  gift"  to  those  who  love  Him;  a 
gnosis  only  to  be  had  by  revelation  of  the  Spirit,  and  which 
belongs  to  those  who  "  have  the  mind  of  Christ."  For  it 
is  conveyed  in  the  same  way  that  "  the  spirit  of  a  man  teaches 
him  "  the  purpose  with  which  he  frames  his  human  construc- 
tions. Repeatedly  in  later  epistles  (Col.  1:9;  2:3;  Eph. 
1:9-10;  3:3-5)  he  appeals  to  his  endowment  with  that 
"  spiritual  gift  "  of  "  prophecy  "  whose  ideal  was  to  sound 
"  all  mysteries  and  all  gnosis." 

But  it  is  also  unquestionably  true  that  Paul  interprets  this 
Jewish    doctrine   of   revelation    from    the  standpoint   of   his 

21  According  to  Pauline  Christology  it  was  the  divine  decree 
(evdoKrjcrev)  that  the  whole  completeness  (irX-qpojiia)  of  the  "  powers  " 
should  take  up  their  permanent  abode  (KarotKijaai)  in  Jesus  (Col. 
1 :  19).  It  could  thus  be  said  of  the  Christ  who  was  glorified  in  and 
by  His  Spirit  that  he  was  "the  image  of  the  invisible  God,  the  first- 
born of  all  creation,  in  whom  and  through  whom  all  things  were 
created"  (Col.  1:15-17;  I  Cor.  8:6).  For  in  the  Wisdom  litera- 
ture, which  Paul  freely  employs,  the  Spirit  is  God's  agent  in  crea- 
tion. 


120         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

own  and  his  readers'  environment,  and  that  when  he  places 
his  own  revelation  "  through  the  Spirit "  of  the  mystery 
"  which  God  foreordained  before  the  world  unto  our 
glory  "  in  detailed  comparison  with  that  of  Moses,  making 
of  it  a  vision  of  God  productive  of  immortality  by  confor- 
mation to  the  divine  "  image  "  exhibited  in  the  glorified 
Christ,  he  is  interpreting  both  the  Mosaic  vision  of  God 
on  Sinai  (Ex.  33:12-34:35),  and  his  own  mystical  ex- 
perience in  terms  of  mystery  religion.  It  is  time  then  that 
we  heard  from  Dr.  Morgan  as  to  the  influence  of  these  upon 
Paul's  language  and  mode  of  thought. 

Time  and  again  (says  Dr.  Morgan)  we  have  had  occasion  to  re- 
fer to  Hellenistic  religion  as  affecting  at  vital  points  the  structure  of 
the  Apostle's  thought.  To  this  source  we  have  traced  the  dualism 
he  establishes  between  the  flesh  and  the  Spirit,  his  conception  of 
Christ  as  Kyrios  and  as  the  Logos,  and  his  concentration  of  the 
significance  of  Christ's  historical  life  in  the  two  cardinal  events  of 
the  death  and  the  resurrection.  And  in  succeeding  chapters,  when 
we  come  to  speak  of  his  doctrine  of  regeneration,  of  pneumatic  gifts, 
and  of  the  sacraments,  it  will  be  necessary  to  recur  to  it. 

Dr.  Morgan  proceeds  in  fact  at  this  point  to  describe  the 
essential  features  of  "  Hellenistic  religion  "  with  its  protean 
drama  of  the  dying  and  resurrected  Redeemer-god  (Attis, 
Adonis,  Serapis,  Mithras,  Dionysus,  or  however  named), 
and  its  boon  to  the  worshipper  of  a  blessed  immortality 
beyond  the  grave,  attained  by  mystical  assimilation  to  and 
participation  in  the  life  of  the  glorified  divinity.  The  con- 
tribution of  the  East  to  the  new  religious  era  was  "  a  type 
of  religion  individualistic,  otherworldly,  orgiastic,  dualistic, 
ascetic,  redemptive,  mystical."  That  of  the  West  was  a 
Platonized  Stoicism  "  as  represented  by  Posidonius  and 
Cornutus,"  a  religious  philosophy,  or  gnosis,  of  which  the 
classical  example  is  the  Alexandrine  Jew  Philo.  "  To  the 
same  stream  belong  the  Hermetic  writings,  the  many  Gnostic 
sects  and  the  Neo-Platonic  philosophy." 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       121 

We  are  more  particularly  concerned,  however,  with  the 
actual  language  and  symbolism  of  the  cults;  for  the  devout 
expression  of  the  mystae,  who  describe  the  inner  experience 
by  which  they  are  "  in  a  sense  born  again  "  {quodam  modo 
renatos)  and  "  placed  in  the  course  of  a  new  life  in  salva- 
tion," bring  us  into  living  contact  with  contemporary  re- 
ligious mysticism  in  mode  of  thought  and  phraseology  as  well. 

The  initiation  of  Lucius  into  the  mysteries  of  Isis  as  re- 
lated by  Apuleius  22  is  a  comparatively  well  known  instance 
from  classical  literature.  It  is  solemnized  as  the  symbol 
of  a  voluntary  death  {ad  instar  voluntariae  mortis).  Lucius 
is  forbidden  to  disclose  the  precise  nature  of  his  experiences, 
but  gives  a  symbolical  description. 

I  penetrated  the  boundaries  of  death;  I  trod  the  threshold  of 
Proserpine,  and  after  being  borne  through  all  the  elements  I  re- 
turned to  earth;  at  midnight  I  beheld  the  sun  radiating  white  light; 
I  came  into  the  presence  of  the  gods  below  and  the  gods  above,  and 
did  them  reverence  close  at  hand. 

Lucius  not  only  participated  in  the  death  and  resurrection 
of  the  god  through  the  symbolism  of  his  initiation  and  his 
own  mystical  experience,  but  is  greeted  by  the  worshippers 
as  now  of  one  substance  with  the  divine  being.  Arrayed  in 
the  robe  of  Olympus,  a  flaming  torch  in  his  hand,  a  crown 
of  spotless  palm  upon  his  head,  he  is  "  set  up  like  the  image 
of  a  god,"  and  in  this  guise  receives  from  them  religious 
homage.  It  is  no  longer  he  that  lives,  but  the  divinity 
whose  glory  he  has  seen  in  dazzling  light  that  now  lives 
in  him. 

Archaeological  discovery  adds  its  confirmation  to  the  testi- 
mony of  classical  literature  regarding  the  goal  and  method 
of  Hellenistic  religion.  Thus  the  Papyrus  Mimaut  describes 
the  experience  of  the  neophyte  in  the  mysteries  of  Asklepios 
in  the  thanksgiving: 

22  Metamorphosis,  XI. 


122         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

"We  rejoice  that  while  we  are  still  in  our  bodies  thou  didst 
make  us  divine  by  the  vision  of  thyself." 

The  so-called  Mithras  Liturgy  gives  expression  to  the  same 
fundamental  conception  of  a  mystical  dying  and  rising  again, 
the  neophyte  entering  into  the  life  of  the  divinity  through 
ecstatic  contemplation,   or  beatific  vision. 

Gaze  upon  the  god  (so  he  is  instructed),  and  greet  him  thus. 
Hail,  Lord  (/a'/ue),  ruler  of  the  waters,  .  .  .  potentate  of  the  spirit, 
born  again  I  depart  life  (rrdXiv  yepo/ievos  airoyiyvofiai)i  being  the 
while  exalted;  and  having  been  exalted  I  die;  born  of  the  birth 
which  is  the  parent  of  life,  dissolved  in  death  I  go  the  way  as 
thou  hast  appointed  it  for  a  law,  and  didst  create  the  (initiatory) 
sacrament. 

We  are  not,  of  course,  to  see  any  direct  literary  relation 
between  this  language  of  Hellenistic  mystery  religions  and 
Paul's  exclamation  to  Roman  Christians  in  whose  evangeli- 
zation he  had  borne  no  part: 

Are  ye  ignorant  that  all  we  who  were  baptized  into  Christ  Jesus 
were  baptized  into  his  death?  We  were  buried  therefore  with  him 
through  baptism  into  death:  that  like  as  Christ  was  raised  from 
the  dead  through  (5td)  the  glory  of  the  Father,  so  we  also  might 
walk  in  newness  of  life.  For  if  we  have  become  united  with  him 
by  the  likeness  of  his  death  we  shall  be  also  by  the  likeness  of 
his  resurrection. 

The  coincidence  of  language  and  ideas  between  the  New 
Testament  doctrine  of  new  birth  by  water  and  the  Spirit 
and  that  of  the  mystic  who  is  instructed  to  "  gaze  upon  " 
the  divinity  of  the  mystery  cult,  saluting  him  as  "  Lord 
of  the  water  and  the  spirit,"  entreating  that  in  his  (sym- 
bolical) departure  from  life  he  may  be  "  born  again  "  of  the 
birth  which  is  the  parent  of   life,  is  not  a  coincidence  of 

23  Quoted  by  E.  F.  Scott  in  American  Journal  of  Theology  for 
July,  1916,  from  Reitzenstein,  Die  Hellenistischen  Mysterien-Reli- 
gionen,  Leipzig  and  Berlin,  1910. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       123 

literary  dependence  on  one  side  or  the  other,  but  a  reflection 
in  both  of  religious  ideas  and  phraseology  which  in  the  period 
of   Paul  were  disseminated   throughout   the   Empire. 

Let  us  not  delay  with  Mithraic  (?)  conceptions  and 
phraseology,  which  in  these  regions  can  be  carried  back  to 
the  time  of  Paul  only  when,  like  the  phrase  "  born  again 
to  eternity"  (renatus  in  aeternum) ,  they  express  ideas  com- 
mon to  all  the  mystery  cults.  We  must  hasten  to  our  more 
immediate  goal,  the  interpretation  of  Paul's  fullest  exposi- 
tion of  his  fundamental  mystical  experience,  as  it  appears 
in  his  comparison  of  the  vocation  of  the  Christian  Apostle 
with  the  revelation  to  Moses.  We  must  read  again  the  de- 
fense of  the  Ministry  of  the  New  Covenant  in  II  Cor.  3:  1- 
6:  10  in  the  light  of  contemporary  conceptions  of  mystical 
participation  in  the  immortal  life  of  the  divinity,  "  trans- 
figuration "  (fieTaix6pcf>u)(jL<;)  and  "  glorification  "  through 
ecstatic  vision  and  "  illumination  "  (c^corioyxo's),  "  apotheosis  " 
by  reflection  on  the  human  retina  of  the  image  (ukuv)  of 
the  god    (OeoTt]?  Blol  8ea<s). 

For  this  purpose  we  may  venture  to  transcribe  a  single 
paragraph  from  Dr.  Morgan's  summary  of  recent  discovery 
as  to  the  meaning  in  Paul's  time  of  religious  gnosis. 

The  supreme  importance  thus  attached  to  gnosis  is  one  of  the 
most  outstanding  features  of  Hellenistic  religion.  A  passage  in 
the  Hermetic  writings  defines  piety  as  "  the  knowledge  of  God," 
and  another  declares  that  in  this  alone  is  salvation  for  man.  If 
we  ask  how  precisely  gnosis  is  effective  for  salvation  it  would  no 
doubt  be  a  partial  answer  to  say  that  it  is  "  a  way  of  life."  It  in- 
structs a  man  with  respect  to  the  true  nature  of  the  soul,  its  origin, 
its  bondage,  its  destiny;  it  points  him  to  God  as  the  goal  of  his 
being,  and  shows  him  how  by  mortification  of  the  flesh  and  a  life  of 
virtue  he  may  tread  the  upward  path.  All  this,  however,  conducts 
only  to  the  threshold  of  the  inner  shrine.  What  works  the  regen- 
erative change  is  not  instruction,  and  not  self-mortification  and 
virtue  —  these  are  only  preparatory  —  it  is  immediate  contact  or 
mystical  union  with   the  ineffable   God.     Gnosis  culminates  in  the 


i24         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

ecstatic  vision  (#ea)  in  which  the  soul,  touching  the  divine,  re- 
ceives the  "  powers  "  of  God  and  is  itself  divinized.  "  That  which 
is  beheld  illumines  ((purl^ei)  the  whole  inner  life,  drawing  the 
soul  out  from  the  body  and  transforming  it  into  ovaia  (the  divine 
supersensible  substance).  The  place  given  to  gnosis  in  Hellenistic 
religion  can  be  understood  only  when  we  keep  in  view  its  con- 
nection with  the  mystic  vision;  and  it  is  in  the  light  of  this  con- 
nection that  we  must  interpret  the  statement  in  the  Hermetic  writ- 
ings: "This  is  the  blessed  issue  for  those  who  have  attained 
gnosis  that  they  are  transformed  into  the  divine  (dewOijvai) ."  From 
Dr.  Kennedy 24  we  quote  the  account  of  a  dialogue  between 
Hermes  and  his  son  Tat  on  the  subject  of  regeneration  and  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  effected.  Tat  reminds  his  father  that  he 
had  told  him  that  no  one  could  be  saved  without  regeneration.25 
Regeneration  was  only  possible  to  one  who  had  cut  himself  loose 
from  the  world.20  Tat  has  renounced  the  world  and  entreats 
his  father,  who  has  himself  been  regenerated,  to  communicate  the 
secret.  Hermes  replies  that  this  must  be  a  revelation  to  the  heart 
by  the  divine  will.  By  the  mercy  of  God  he  had  seen  an  im- 
material vison  inwardly,  and  had  passed  out  through  his  body  into 
an  immortal  body.  He  is  no  longer  what  he  was.  While  Hermes 
speaks  Tat  becomes  conscious  of  a  transformation.  He  is  set  free 
from  the  twelve  evil  propensities,  which  are  replaced  by  the  ten 
powers  of  God.  He  can  now  declare:  "My  spirit  is  illumined. 
.  .  .  To  thee,  O  God,  author  of  my  new  creation,  I,  Tat,  offer 
spiritual  sacrifices.  O  God  and  Father,  thou  art  the  Lord,  thou 
art  the  Spirit,  accept  from  me  the  spiritual  sacrifices  which  thou 
desirest."  27 

Paul,  we  perceive,  is  making  the  comparison  between  his 

24  St.  Paul  and  the  Mystery  Religions. 

**Cf.  Jn.  3:3. 

20  Cf.  Oxyrh.  Log.  II. 

27  Religion  and  Theology  of  Paul,  pp.  138-139.  The  references 
are  to  the  Corpus  Hermet,  X.,  4  and  15,  and  to  Kennedy's  St.  Paul 
and  the  Mystery  Religions,  p.  107.  The  "  spiritual  sacrifices " 
which  Tat  proposes  to  offer  in  thanksgiving  for  his  "  new  crea- 
tion "  are,  of  course,  a  self-dedication  corresponding  to  the  "  inward 
worship"  (X071K7?  yarpeia)  to  which  Paul  exhorts  in  Rom.  12:1. 
The  effect  upon  the  worshipper  of  this  worship  is  that  he  is  "  meta- 
morphosed "  (fxeranopcpovade)  from  the  fashion  (crxv/J-a)  of  this 
world  by  a  renewing  of  the  mind,  and  thus  attains  to  the  beneficent 
divine  purpose. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       125 

own  apostolic  vocation  on  the  one  side,  when  he  was  given 
the  "  illumination  "  of  the  "  gnosis  "  of  the  glory  of  God 
in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  on  the  other  the  revelation 
to  Moses  at  Sinai.  Must  we  hold,  then,  that  he  conceived 
of  Moses'  request  to  "  see  the  face  "  of  God  and  its  answer 
as  an  experience  parallel  to  the  ecstatic  vision  of  the  adept 
in  the  mysteries?  Did  he  conceive  of  the  Mosaic  gnosis 
and  its  message  to  the  world  as  resting  upon  that  experi- 
ence from  which  Moses  returned  to  the  people  only  after 
he  had  put  a  veil  upon  his  face? 

I  should  hesitate  to  make  any  such  assertion.  It  is  by 
no  means  certain  that  Paul  saw  any  direct  parallelism  be- 
tween the  divine  revelation  to  Moses  at  Horeb  and  the  re- 
vealing vision  of  God  of  Hellenistic  religion.  Indirectly, 
however,  the  parallelism  is  almost  certainly  intended,  if  only 
for  the  reason  that  it  leads  over  in  the  next  paragraph  (II 
Cor.  4:  7-5:  10)  to  the  doctrine  of  life  in  death  and  the 
immortality  which  is  achieved  by  the  "  clothing  upon  "  of 
the  spirit  with  the  indestructible  heavenly  "  house  "  in  place 
of  the  "  tabernacle "  of  clay.  Whether  it  were  true  of 
Moses  or  not,  Paul  feels  it  to  be  deeply,  sublimely,  true  in 
his  own  case,  that  God  has  given  him  this  gnosis  and  im- 
mortality in  an  "  illumination  "  (^omoyufc)  of  the  inward 
man  by  His  glory  shining  in  the  face  of  Jesus  Christ  (II 
Cor.  4:6).  In  that  primary  mystical  experience  he  had 
felt  in  deep  reality  all  that  inward  new  creation,  "  trans- 
figuration "  (juerafbop^cdox?) ,  and  endowment  with  the  divine 
"  powers  "  of  the  Spirit,  which  the  mystic  claimed.  There- 
fore, in  defending  "  the  ministry  of  the  new  covenant  "  as 
surpassing  in  glory  that  of  Moses,  he  purposely  employs  all 
the  mystical  imagery  of  Hellenistic  religion  as  applying  to 
his  own  case  and  that  of  his  fellow-ambassadors  for  God. 

Realizing  this  unmistakable  intention  of  Paul  to  use  the 
religious  conceptions  familiar  to  his  hearers  as  the  vehicle 
of  his  own  teaching  we  cannot  do  better  in  our  attempt  to 


126         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

appreciate  the  content  of  his  mystical  experience  than  to 
note  what  features  he  makes  salient  in  the  Pentateuchal 
story  of  Moses'  vision  of  God,  aiming  thus  to  interpret  his 
retrospect  over  his  defense  of  the  divine  vocation  of  the 
"  minister  of  the  new  covenant."  For  here,  as  elsewhere, 
we  are  given  his  own  mystical  experience  in  typical  form. 

In  the  opening  paragraph  (3:  1-11)  Paul  contrasts  the 
"  ministry  "  (SiaKovia)  of  the  new  covenant  with  the  Mosaic, 
whose  covenant  was  "  written  and  engraven  on  stones." 
The  new  is  a  ministry  of  spirit  and  life,  guaranteed  by  the 
covenant  in  the  blood  of  Jesus.  The  old,  with  its  curse 
upon  "  every  one  that  abideth  not  in  all  things  that  are 
written  in  the  law  to  do  them  "  is  a  "  ministry  of  death." 
Nevertheless  even  the  Mosaic  "  came  with  glory,  so  that 
the  children  of  Israel  could  not  look  steadfastly  upon  the 
face  of  Moses,  for  the  glory  of  his  face."  This  transitory 
glory,  irradiating  for  the  time  being  the  face  of  Moses  when 
he  descended  from  his  vision  of  God  carrying  the  renewed 
tables  of  the  law  (Ex.  34:  1-6,  39-34),  thereupon  becomes 
the  Apostle's  text  for  an  exalted  exposition  of  the  unfading 
glory  of  the  "  ministry  of  justification  "  (SiaKona  rrjs 
Soccuoaw^s)  .2S  To  do  full  justice  to  this  we  must  turn  back 
for  a  moment  to  the  Pentateuchal  story  of  the  renewal  of  the 
covenant  of  the  law  of  the  Ten  Words  after  the  people's 
apostasy.  It  begins  in  Ex.  33:  12-23  with  Moses'  request 
to  see  the  face  of  God  in  order  that  he  may  "  know  "  Him. 
In  verses  17-23  the  entreaty  takes  the  form:  "  Show  me, 
1  pray  thee,  thy  glory."  Moses'  petition  is  granted  on  the 
ground  that  he  has  found  grace  in  Jehovah's  sight,  and 
that  Jehovah  "  knows  him  by  name  " ; 29  but  with  the  proviso, 

28  "  Righteousness  "  (A.  V.  and  R.  V.)  is  here,  as  in  the  majority 
of  cases  an  altogether  inadequate  rendering  of  the  Pauline  dircaio- 
ovvq.  As  the  contrasted  "  ministry  of  condemnation  "  (dianovia  ttjs 
Kara/cptVews,  ver.  9)  makes  plain,  acquittal  at  the  judgment  seat  of 
God  is  the  object  hoped  for. 

29  Cf.  Gal.  4:9;!  Cor.  13 :  12,  &c. 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       127 

"  Thou  canst  not  see  my  face ;  for  man  shall  not  see  me 
and  live."  In  order,  however,  that  Moses  may  have  the 
gnosis  indispensable  to  the  teacher  of  Jehovah's  "  ways " 
(ver.  13),  he  is  placed  in  a  cleft  of  the  rock  and  covered 
with  the  divine  hand  while  Jehovah  passes  by.  As  he  thus 
gazes  upon  the  "afterglow"  (eth-ahorai)  of  the  dazzling 
light  a  voice  proclaims:  "Jehovah,  Jehovah,  a  God  full 
of  compassion  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger  and  plenteous 
in  mercy  and  truth,  keeping  mercy  for  thousands,  forgiving 
iniquity  and  transgression  and  sin." 

Paul  is  fully  appreciative  of  the  mingled  sublimity  and 
beauty  of  this  culminating  Old  Testament  expression  of  the 
revelation  of  the  knowledge  of  Jehovah  as  the  All-Merciful, 
the  God  of  Forgiveness.  The  fact  is  proved  by  his  adoption 
of  parallel  language  to  describe  his  own  religious  experience. 
He  too  had  been  granted  an  "  illumination  (<f>o)Tiaiws)  with 
the  light  of  the  gnosis  of  the  glory  of  God  in  the  face  of 
Jesus  Christ  " ;  and  the  gospel  thus  conveyed  was  a  gospel 
of  peace  and  forgiveness,  a  "  ministry  of  reconciliation 
(SiaKovta  t^?  KaraAAayijjs)  "  whereby  the  All-merciful  again 
proclaimed  Himself  to  the  world  as  propitiated.  Its  sub- 
stance was,  in  Paul's  own  words,  "  that  God  in  Christ  was 
reconciling  the  world  unto  Himself,  not  reckoning  unto  men 
their  trespasses,"  and  that  he  had  committed  unto  the 
ministry  of  the  new  covenant  as  His  ambassadors  "  the  procla- 
mation of  this  atonement." 

But  Paul  does  not  stop  with  this  comparison  of  the  two 
"  ministries."  While  he  attests  by  his  very  use  of  the 
symbolism  his  profound  appreciation  of  this  gnosis  of  Moses, 
he  does  not  hesitate  to  place  it  on  a  lower  level  than  his  own 
revelation.  And  in  particular  he  dwells  upon  the  fact  that 
his  own  is  a  ministration  of  life  —  life  by  "  illumination  " 
((/xoriff/io?)  and  "metamorphosis"  through  reflection 
(KaToirTpi£6[Levoi)  of  the  divine  image.  In  Paul's  view  the 
fading  of  the  glory  from  the  face  of  Moses  was  a  token  of  the 


128         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

inferiority  of  his  "  ministry."  For  whereas  Moses  put  a  veil 
upon  his  face  to  conceal  from  Israel  its  transitoriness  (such 
is  the  curious  interpretation  put  upon  Ex.  34:33-35  in  II 
Cor.  3:  13)  the  glory  of  the  vision  of  God  that  is  given  to 
the  ministry  of  the  new  covenant  increases  from  glory  to 
glory,  "  transfiguring  "  the  very  flesh  into  the  likeness  of  the 
glorified  Lord  whose  image  is  reflected  upon  the  "  mirror  " 
of  the  spiritual  retina  (ver.  18).  As  with  the  adept  in  the 
mysteries  who  rejoices  that  while  still  in  the  body  he  is 
made  partaker  of  the  divine  nature  by  vision  of  the  divinity, 
so  Paul  feels  that  the  transfiguring  brightness  reflected  from 
the  image  of  his  glorified  Lord,  who  is  "  the  Spirit'"  (3:  18), 
changes  him  into  the  same  likeness. 

The  superiority  of  the  ministry  of  the  new  covenant  lies, 
then,  in  its  conveyance  of  life.  For  whereas  by  common  con- 
sent it  was  only  the  law  that  was  given  by  Moses,  life  and 
immortality  were  brought  to  light  through  the  gospel.  The 
new  gnosis  is  a  coming  to  know  God,  or  rather  to  be  known 
of  him,  a  knowledge  which  "  is  eternal  life."  For  no  man, 
not  even  Moses,  had  seen  God  at  any  time,  but  the  only- 
begotten  Son,  ascended  to  the  bosom  of  the  Father  had 
now  revealed  Him,  being  himself  "  the  image  of  the  in- 
visible God"  (Col.  1:  15),  so  that  whoever  has  seen  him 
has  seen  the  Father.  It  is  in  this  "  Johannine  "  sense  that 
Paul  develops  in  II  Cor.  4:1-5:10  his  doctrine  of  the 
"  transfiguring  "  vision  of  Christ  which  not  only  guarantees 
but  effects  immortality.  For  it  is  an  essential  part  of  his 
doctrine  of  resurrection,  in  fact  its  very  ground,  that  "  this 
body  of  our  humiliation  must  be  changed  and  made  like  unto 
the  glory-body  of  Christ"  (Phil.  3:  10-11,  21).  And  the 
method  of  working  is  that  "  if  the  Spirit  of  Him  that  raised 
up  Jesus  from  the  dead  dwelleth  in  you  He  that  raised 
up  Christ  Jesus  from  the  dead  shall  quicken  also  your  mortal 
bodies  through  his  Spirit  that  dwelleth  in  you"  (Rom. 
8:11).     It  is  a  new  creation  for  humanity;  such  a  new 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL      129 

"  dawn  "  as  when  God  said,  Let  the  light  shine  out  of  dark- 
ness; though  Satan  is  able  to  blind  the  minds  of  the  un- 
believing so  that  the  "  illumination  "  of  the  glory  of  Christ, 
the  second  Adam  made  "  in  the  image  of  God,"  does  not 
dawn  upon  them. 

The  very  nature  of  the  glory-body  is  made  plain  by  the 
nature  of  Christ's  body  as  it  had  been  beheld  in  ecstatic  vision 
by  Paul  together  with  all  the  rest  of  the  witnesses  (I  Cor. 
15:1-58).  For  this  vision  in  the  Christian's  experience 
becomes  the  means  of  moral  transformation.  Herein  lies 
in  fact  the  supreme  distinction  between  the  Christian  mysti- 
cism of  Paul  and  the  magic  of  the  mystery  cults.  In  so  far, 
then,  as  this  vision  of  the  crucified  and  risen  Lord  becomes 
the  means  of  transformation  into  his  m'oral  likeness,  a  "  put- 
ting on  of  the  new  man  which  is  created  after  God  in 
righteousness  and  holiness  of  truth"  (Eph.  4:23-24;  Col. 
3:  10;  Rom.  12:2),  it  is  itself  the  effective  means  of  the 
new  creation.  We  are  raised  from  the  dead  with  Christ 
"  by  means  of  "  (8ta)  this  glory  of  the  Father  to  walk  in 
newness  of  life  (Rom.  6:4),  so  that  in  thus  becoming  con- 
formed to  the  likeness  of  the  heavenly  Man  by  the  renewing 
of  our  minds  (I  Cor.  15:45-49;  Rom.  12:2)  we  accom- 
plish the  good  and  acceptable  and  perfect  will  of  the  Creator. 
For  to  this  end  He  sent  this  Second  Adam  as  "  lifegiving 
Spirit  "  to  become  the  First-born  of  a  new  race  of  redeemed 
immortals    (Rom.   8:29). 

It  cannot  and  will  not  be  denied  that  Paul's  doctrine  of 
immortality  was  not  derived  from  Moses.  The  doctrine  be- 
longs to  the  Greek  period  of  Judaism  and  comes  in  as  the 
distinctive  tenet  of  Pharisaism.  But  while  Paul  as  "  a 
Pharisee  of  Pharisees"  (Phil.  3:5)  undoubtedly  took  over 
in  large  part  the  form  of  Pharisean  belief,  the  positive  basis 
of  his  resurrection  faith  and  gospel  was  his  own  mystical 
experience,  his  vision  of  the  risen  and  glorified  Jesus.  Those 
who  remember  the  exalted  paean  of  victorious  spiritual  life, 


130         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

triumphant  over  the  law  of  sin  and  death  in  Rom.  8:  1-39 
will  not  need  to  be  told  of  the  moral  value  attached  by  Paul 
to  his  religio-mystical  experience.  To  countless  millions 
through  fifty  generations  that  experience  has  been  the  supreme 
expression  of  the  victory  of  the  higher  nature  in  man,  that 
nature  which  "  thinks  it  was  not  born  to  die,"  over  the 
lower.  It  would  be  waste  of  words  to  enlarge  upon  the 
"  value  to  the  life  of  others  "  of  what  Paul  refers  to,  now 
as  his  "  new  creation,"  now  as  his  being  "  raised  from  the 
dead,"  now  as  being  transformed,  or  "  metamorphosed  "  into 
the  image  of  Christ,  by  the  "  renewing  of  his  mind."  This 
value  is  as  undisputed  as  it  is  independent  of  the  particular 
mode  or  form  under  which  Paul  conceived  the  psychological 
process  of  "  regeneration  "  and  "  transfiguration  "  or  "  con- 
formation to  the  image  of  the  Son  of  God"  (Rom.  8:29). 
We  have  already  recalled  the  saving  and  distinctively 
Christian  element  of  the  Pauline  mysticism  to  be  its  unquali- 
fied subjection  to  the  acid  test  of  the  intellectual  and  moral 
judgment.  If  our  survey  of  Paul's  own  interpretation  of 
his  experiences  has  value  to  the  psychological  critic  it  will 
not  chiefly  lie  in  renewed  emphasis  laid  upon  this  conceded 
religious  and  practical  value,  indestructible  as  long  as  man's 
inward  struggle  toward  the  higher  ideals  of  his  spiritual  and 
moral  nature  endures,  even  were  its  whole  conceptual  form 
and  mode  of  apprehension  in  Paul's  mind  illusive.  It  will 
lie  rather  in  the  interpretative  connection  we  have  sought  to 
establish  between  these  Pauline  modes  of  apprehension,  and 
those  of  current   Hellenistic  or  "  mystery  "   religion. 

In  particular  we  must  look  at  Paul's  application  of  his 
doctrine  of  life  in  the  Spirit  to  the  death  in  life  of  the 
true  "  minister  of  the  new  covenant  "  in  II  Cor.  4:  7-6:  10, 
bringing  it  into  line  with  earlier  and  later  expressions  of 
his  doctrine  of  "  transfiguration  "  into  the  image  of  the  glori- 
fied Son,  such  as  Rom.  6:  4-5  ;  8:  11,  23,  29;  I  Cor.  15:  35- 
54;  Phil.  3:20-21.     We  must  appreciate  how  here  in  II 


MYSTICAL  EXPERIENCE  OF  ST.  PAUL       131 

Cor.  4:7-15  Paul's  description  of  his  "constant  bearing 
about  in  the  body  the  putting  to  death  of  Jesus,  that  the  life 
also  of  Jesus  may  be  manifested  in  his  mortal  flesh  "  (II  Cor. 
4:  10;  cf.  Rom.  8:11)  fits  on  to  his  reference  in  the  preced- 
ing paragraph  (II  Cor.  3:  18-4:  6)  to  the  inward  "  illumin- 
ation "  and  "  transfiguration  "  into  the  "  likeness  of  the  Son 
of  God,"  whose  glory  was  "  mirrored  "  in  the  eye  of  his 
soul.  Especially  must  we  note  the  allusion  at  its  close  to 
the  "  new  creation  "  for  the  world  as  well  as  for  his  own 
soul,  which  had  "  dawned  "  in  his  mystical  vision  of  "  the 
face  of  Jesus  Christ."  For  this  conception  of  the  eternal 
life  of  "  things  invisible  "  triumphing  through  a  "  voluntary 
death  "  is  continued  in  verses  16-18.  Moreover  in  the  open- 
ing paragraph  of  the  next  chapter  (5:1-10)  it  develops 
into  a  discussion  of  the  "  heavenly  house,"  an  indestructible 
"  building  of  God "  with  which  we  are  to  be  "  clothed 
upon  "  when  our  "  earthly  tabernacles  "  decay.  Finally  this 
immortality,  guaranteed  by  the  gift  of  the  Spirit,  an  "  im- 
mortality in  the  image  of  God's  own  being,"  is  declared  to 
be  the  divine  purpose  in  the  creation.  For  a  predecessor  of 
Paul  in  the  adaptation  of  the  Hellenistic  doctrine  of  im- 
mortality through  vision  of  the  divine  image  had  also  de- 
clared that 

God  created  man  for  incorruption 

And  made  him  an  image    (eUup)   of  his  own  proper  being.30 

In  all  this  defense  of  the  "  ministry,"  therefore,  Paul  is 
simply  interpreting  his  vision  of  the  glorified  Lord  and  its 
retroactive  effect   in   terms  of    Hellenistic   religion. 

It  is  the  task  of  the  psychological  rather  than  the  historical 
and  literary  critic  to  draw  the  boundary  line  between  sub- 
jective and  objective  in  this  mystical  experience  of  Paul. 
For  our  present  undertaking  let  it  suffice  to  have  made  clearer 
(if  our  effort  has  not  been  in  vain),  how  Paul  applied  these 

30  Sap.  2:23;  cf.  II  Cor.  3:18;  5:5. 


132         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

current  conceptions  to  a  spiritual  experience  which  he  was 
one  of  many  to  share  with  Peter  and  the  other  companions 
of  Jesus;  and  that  he  and  they  together  secured  the  triumph 
of  Jesus'  cause,  the  transfer  to  humanity  of  that  ideal  of  the 
Kingdom  of  God  for  which  Jesus  suffered  his  martyrdom, 
because  they  endowed  their  vision  of  the  exalted  and  glori- 
fied "  Lord  "  with  the  moral  qualities  of  the  Servant  of 
Jehovah  who  had  "  humbled  himself  and  become  obedient 
unto  death,  yea,  even  the  death  of  the  cross." 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  AUGUSTINE 

Williston  Walker 

So  preeminent  were  Augustine's  services  in  the  development 
of  Christian  doctrine  that  our  first  thought  of  him  is  as 
a  theologian.  His  controversies  with  Donatists  and  Pela- 
gians, his  explications  of  the  Trinity,  of  grace,  of  predesti- 
nation and  of  the  sacraments  were  so  formative  for  latef 
Christian  thought  that  they  naturally  stand  in  the  forefront 
in  our  recollection  of  him.  To  those  who  immediately  suc- 
ceeded him  Augustine  appeared  no  less  distinguished  as  a 
propagator  of  monasticism.  But  with  all  his  other  claims  to 
distinction  Augustine  must  remain  always  one  of  the  greatest 
of  Christian  mystics,  and  no  small  part  of  his  permanent 
influence  has  been  the  fruit  of  the  mystical  spirit  which  in- 
spired and  animated  his  writings  generally,  but  was  nowhere 
more  evident  than  in  his  Confessions. 

Augustine's  Confessions  are  the  most  remarkable  spiritual 
autobiography  that  the  ancient  world  produced,  and  have 
never  been  surpassed  in  any  period  of  Christian  history. 
They  are  far  from  a  complete  story  of  his  life.  They  end 
with  the  death  of  his  mother,  in  this  thirty-third  year.  He 
was  to  live  till  nearly  seventy-six.  They  omit  many  details 
of  employment  and  relationships  in  the  years  that  they  cover 
that  the  reader  would  gladly  have  had  preserved.  The  main 
facts  of  spiritual  and  intellectual  development  stand  forth, 
however,  in  transparent  clearness.  The  Confessions  exhibit 
with  utmost  fidelity  his  moral  defeats,  his  philosophical  and 
religious  wanderings,  his  intellectual  and  spiritual  struggles, 
and  his  transforming  experience.     No  leader  of  the  ancient 

133 


134         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Church  is  known  to  us,  in  the  deeper  recesses  of  his  soul, 
with  anything  of  comparable  completeness. 

Augustine's  convictions  were  determined  in  large  measure 
by  his  experience.  In  him  two  natures  were  conjoined,  of 
diverse  tendencies.  He  was  marked,  from  earliest  manhood, 
by  a  hot-blooded  impetuosity,  inherited  perhaps  from  his  easy- 
going, long  heathen  father,  which  manifested  itself  in  sen- 
suality. When  little  more  than  sixteen  he  contracted  a  con- 
cubinous  relation  to  which  he  was  to  hold  for  years.  At  the 
same  time  his  deeply  spiritual  and  intellectual  nature  could 
find  no  abiding  satisfaction  in  the  gratifications  of  the  flesh, 
and  Cicero's  Hortensius,  which  came  into  his  hands  in  his 
nineteenth  year,  convinced  him  that  in  the  search  for  truth 
the  only  permanent  satisfactions  are  to  be  found.  It  was,  it 
may  well  have  been,  an  inheritance  from  his  spiritual-minded 
mother.  Thenceforth  the  two  natures  were  in  constant 
struggles  within  him,  and  victory  came  long  to  neither.  His 
better  self  loathed  his  lower  appetites,  but  he  was  unable  to 
shake  off  their  control.  He  was  wretched  in  heart.  "  I, 
miserable  young  man,  supremely  miserable  even  in  the  very 
outset  of  my  youth,  had  entreated  chastity  of  Thee,  and 
said:     '  Grant  me  chasity  and  continency,  but  not  yet.'  "  * 

In  these  torments  he  turned  to  the  Scriptures  for  help,  but 
the  barbarous  Latinity  of  the  old  versions  then  current  re- 
pelled him.  "  They  appeared  to  me  unworthy  to  be  com- 
pared with  the  dignity  of  Cicero ;  "  2  and  his  pride  of  will  was 
not  as  yet  to  be  bent  to  their  characteristic  virtue  of  humility. 
"  I  scorned  to  be  a  little  one,  and,  swollen  with  pride,  I 
looked  upon  myself  as  a  great  one."  3 

No  wonder  that  in  this  divided  and  wretched  state  he  was 
attracted  by  the  then  widely  prevalent  Manichaeism.  The 
system  of  Mani,  though  always  frowned  upon  by  the  Roman 

1  Confessions,  8  :  7. 

2  Confessions,  3:5. 

3  Confessions,   3:5. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  AUGUSTINE       135 

authorities,  had  the  force  that  always  inheres,  for  earnest 
minds,  impressed  with  the  depth  of  actual  or  potential 
human  depravity,  in  a  dualistic  explanation  of  the  universe. 
To  Manichaean  thought,  good  and  evil  are  eternal  realities, 
both  positive  existences,  and  in  unending  conflict,  with  man 
a  creature  in  both  camps,  and  his  everlasting  control  a  prize 
of  victory.  While  evil  is  spiritual,  its  chief  domain  is  that 
of  matter.  "  I  believed  evil  to  be  a  sort  of  substance,  and  to 
be  possessed  of  its  own  foul  and  misshapen  mass, —  whether 
dense,  which  they  denominated  earth,  or  thin  and  subtle,  as 
is  the  body  of  the  air,  which  they  fancy  some  malignant  spirit 
crawling  through  the  earth.  And  because  a  piety,  such  as  it 
was,  compelled  me  to  believe  that  the  good  God  never  created 
any  evil  nature,  I  conceived  two  masses,  the  one  opposed  to 
the  other,  both  infinite,  but  the  evil  the  more  contracted,  the 
good  the  more  expansive."  4  Such  a  view  tends  to  place  evil 
not  in  a  responsible  wrongfulness  of  disposition,  but  to  regard 
it  as  something  inevitably  bound  up  in  the  dual  constitution 
of  men, —  body  and  spirit, —  to  be  fought  indeed,  but  rather 
hopelessly  as  long  as  man  is  in  the  bondage  of  the  flesh. 
While  man  must  struggle  against  evil,  he  is  hardly  respon- 
sible for  its  existence  in  his  own  nature.  For  some  nine 
years  Augustine  remained  satisfied  with  this  explanation  of  his 
moral  perplexities.  Yet  Manichaeanism  did  not  hold  him. 
He  came  to  question  its  adequacy,  and  fell  into  a  state  of 
skepticism,  "  doubting  of  everything  and  fluctuating  between 
all."  5 

Meanwhile  Augustine  was  succeeding  in  his  profession  of 
teacher  of  rhetoric,  and  had  secured  an  excellent  post  in 
Milan.  Here  two  new  forces  came  into  his  life.  It  is  dif- 
ficult to  say  which  was  the  more  influential.  One  was  the 
preaching  of  Ambrose,  the  great  bishop  of  Milan,  a  man 
about  fifteen  years  older  than  Augustine,  and  now  in  the  full 

4  Confessions,  5:10. 

5  Confessions,  5  :  14. 


1 36         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

tide  of  his  remarkable  ministry.  To  his  sermons  Augustine 
went,  at  first,  as  an  eager  taster  of  pulpit  eloquence ;  but  Am- 
brose soon  won  his  intellectual  respect  for  the  message,  and 
under  his  impress  the  authority  of  the  Church  and  the  mean- 
ing of  Scripture  came  to  have  new  significance.  He  began  to 
commit  Ambrose's  sayings  to  heart;  but  he  would  not  yet  yield 
himself  to  the  guidance  of  the  preacher.  "  All  this  time  I 
restrained  my  heart  from  assenting  to  anything  ...  for  my 
desire  was  to  be  as  well  assured  of  these  things  that  I  saw 
not,  as  I  was  that  seven  and  three  are  ten."  6 

Augustine  might  have  continued  in  this  state  of  skeptical 
indecision  had  it  not  been  for  a  second  influence  that  now 
came  into  his  life  —  that  of  Neoplatonism.  It  is  doubtless 
true,  that  in  Neoplatonism  the  ancient  world  reached  its  high- 
est ethical  idealism.  It  was  eminently  mystical  in  its  view. 
Above  all,  the  source  of  all  reality,  is  the  simple,  infinite 
Being,  the  source  of  all  good,  and  that  from  which  all  Is 
derived.  From  it  all  the  multiform  existence  that  constitutes 
this  complex  universe  descends  in  gradations  of  diminishing 
completeness,  but  each  deriving  whatever  of  reality  it  pos- 
sesses from  the  great  Being  which  is  the  source  of  all.  All 
derived  being,  if  it  fulfills  the  law  of  its  nature,  tends  to  as- 
spire  to  communion  and  union  with  that  Being  which  is  the 
ultimate  reality.  As  Augustine  expressed  it:  "I  looked 
back  on  other  things,  and  I  perceived  that  it  was  to  Thee  they 
owed  their  being,  and  that  they  were  all  bounded  in  Thee." 
11  I  viewed  the  other  things  below  Thee,  and  perceived  that 
they  neither  altogether  are,  nor  altogether  are  not.  They 
are,  indeed,  because  they  are  from  Thee ;  but  are  not,  because 
they  are  not  what  Thou  art.  For  that  truly  is  which  remains 
immutably.  It  is  good,  then,  for  me  to  cleave  unto  God,  for 
if  I  remain  not  in  Him,  neither  shall  I  in  myself,  but  He, 
remaining  in  Himself,  reneweth  all  things."  8 

6  Confessions,  6:4. 

7  Confessions,  7: 15. 

8  Confessions,  7: 11 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  AUGUSTINE       137 

Here  was  a  view  of  the  nature  of  God  and  of  the  universe 
that  was  well  fitted  to  wean  Augustine  from  his  skepticism 
and  remaining  Manichaeism,  To  him  God  was  now  the 
source  of  all  reality  anywhere.  All  as  it  came  from  God  is 
good.  Evil  is  nothing  self-existent  and  positive,  as  in  Mani- 
chaeism.  It  is  a  privation,  a  defect,  a  lack  of  goodness.  It 
is  a  frustration  of  the  normal  desire  to  find  the  highest  good 
in  God,  to  turn  towards-  Him.  "  I  inquired  what  iniquity 
was,  and  ascertained  it  not  to  be  a  substance,  but  a  perversion 
of  the  will,  bent  aside  from  Thee,  O  God,  the  Supreme 
Substance,  toward  these  lower  things." 9  Neoplatonism 
thenceforth  largely  determined  Augustine's  philosophic  inter- 
pretation of  God,  sin,  and  the  highest  good.  The  philosophic 
basis  of  his  mysticism  was  laid. 

Augustine,  however,  saw  the  limitations  of  Neoplatonism 
no  less  clearly.  It  had  not  the  definiteness  that  comes  from 
allegiance  to  a  person.  Its  supreme  reality  and  highest  good 
remained  remote  and  indefinite  until  revealed  in  a  person,  as 
in  Christianity.  "  I  sought  a  way  of  acquiring  strength 
sufficient  to  enjoy  Thee;  but  I  found  it  not  until  I  embraced 
that  '  Mediator  between  God  and  man,  the  man  Christ 
Jesus.'  "  10 

Yet  Augustine's  sensual  nature  still  held  him  in  bondage. 
Though  now  intellectually  convinced  of  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity, by  Ambrose's  preaching,  by  Neoplatonism  and  by 
the  reading  especially  of  Paul,  his  will  did  not  yet  follow. 
"  I  did  not  grasp  my  Lord  Jesus, —  I,  though  humbled, 
grasped  not  the  humble  One  "  1X  He  dismissed  his  faithful 
concubine.  He  entered  an  engagement  that  promised  an  ad- 
vantageous marriage;  but  as  the  union  must  be  delayed  on 
account  of  the  youth  of  his  betrothed,  he  took  another  mis- 
tress.    He  loathed   his  weakness,   but   felt   no  strength  in 

9  Confessions,  7: 16. 

10  Confessions,  7:18. 

11  Confessions,  7: 18. 


138         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

himself  to  overcome  it.  He  was  distracted,  ashamed  and 
wretched. 

In  his  perplexities  Augustine  now  sought  Simplicianus,  a 
Christian  to  whom  Ambrose  had  been  deeply  indebted 
spiritually.  Simplicianus  sympathized  with  his  studies  in 
Neoplatonism,  and  told  him  of  the  Christian  profession,  in 
old  age,  of  Victorinus,  whose  Latin  translation  of  Neoplatonic 
works  had  been  Augustine's  introduction  to  a  knowledge  of 
that  philosophy.  It  was  the  sacrifice  of  scholastic  pride  in- 
volved in  Victorinus's  Christian  profession  that  most  im- 
pressed the  scholarly  inquirer.  "  When  that  man  of  Thine, 
Simplicianus,  related  this  to  me  about  Victorinus  I  burned 
to  imitate  him."  12  "  Thus  came  I  to  understand,  from  my 
own  experience,  what  I  had  read,  how  that  '  the  flesh  lusteth 
against  the  spirit  and  the  spirit  against  the  flesh.'  "  13 

Augustine's  release  was  not  yet  come.  A  traveled  fellow- 
African  Christian,  in  high  government  office,  Pontitianus, 
now  called  on  Augustine  and  his  friend  Alypius.  He  found 
Augustine,  to  his  surprise,  reading  Paul.  The  talk  turned 
toward  monasticism,  then  in  its  early  vigor  in  Egypt  and 
spreading  thence  to  other  parts  of  the  empire.  Pontitianus 
had  many  interesting  things  to  tell,  as  they  sat  together  in 
the  garden ;  but  what  impressed  and  humiliated  Augustine 
was  that  these  unlettered  monks  could  overcome  temptations 
which,  he,  a  man  of  learning,  found  himself  unable  to  resist. 
"  I  seized  upon  Alypius  and  exclaimed :  What  is  wrong  with 
us?  What  is  this?  What  heardest  thou?  The  unlearned 
start  up  and  take  heaven,  and  we,  with  our  learning,  but 
wanting  heart,  see  where  we  wallow  in  flesh  and  blood."  14 
The  inward  struggle  intensified.  Augustine  longed  to  be 
freed  from  the  chains  of  habit,  yet  the  old  life  still  had  some- 
thing of  its  spell.     It  whispered,  as  he  thought  of  its  old  sat- 

12  Confessions,  8:  5. 

13  Confessions,  8  :  5. 

14  Confessions,  8:  8. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  AUGUSTINE       139 

isfactions:  "  Dost  thou  think  that  thou  canst  live  without, 
them?"  But  the  longing  for  spiritual  freedom  was  the 
stronger.  He  prayed,  flinging  himself  beneath  a  fig-tree  in 
the  garden.  "  Not  indeed  in  these  words,  yet  to  this  effect, 
spake  I  much  unto  Thee:  *  But  Thou,  O  Lord,  how  long? 
.  .  .  How  long?  To-morrow  and  to-morrow?  Why  not 
now?  Why  is  there  not  this  hour  an  end  of  my  uncleanli- 
ness?"15 

Augustine's  nature  was  convulsed  by  a  crisis  of  utmost  vio- 
lence of  emotion.  What  followed  may  best  be  told  in  his 
own  words : 16 

"  I  was  saying  these  things  and  weeping  in  the  most  bitter  con- 
trition of  my  heart,  when,  lo,  I  heard  the  voice  as  of  a  boy  or 
girl,  I  know  not  which,  coming  from  a  neighboring  house,  chant- 
ing and  oft  repeating:  'Take  up  and  read;  take  up  and  read.' 
Immediately  my  countenance  was  changed,  and  I  began  most 
earnestly  to  consider  whether  it  was  usual  for  children  in  any 
kind  of  game  to  sing  such  words;  nor  could  I  remember  ever  to 
have  heard  the  like.  So,  restraining  the  torrent  of  my  tears,  I 
rose  up,  interpreting  it  in  no  other  way  than  as  a  command  to 
me  from  heaven  to  open  the  book,  and  to  read  the  first  chapter 
I  should  light  upon.  ...  So  quickly  I  returned  to  the  place  where 
Alypius  was  sitting;  for  there  I  had  put  down  the  volume  of 
the  Apostles  when  I  rose  thence.  I  grasped,  opened,  and  in  silence 
read  that  paragraph  on  which  my  eyes  first  fell:  'Not  in  riot- 
ing and  drunkenness,  not  in  chambering  and  wantonness,  not  in 
strife  and  envying;  but  put  ye  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and 
make  not  provision  for  the  flesh  to  fulfil  the  lusts  thereof 
{Romans  13:13,  14).  No  further  would  I  read,  nor  did  I  need, 
for  instantly,  as  the  sentence  ended, —  by  a  light,  as  it  were,  of 
security  infused  into  my  heart, —  all  the  gloom  of  doubt  vanished 
away." 

To  Augustine  it  was  an  abiding  and  life-long  transfor- 
mation. It  involved  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins;  but  it  was  a 
boon  far  greater  than  that.     It  freed  his  will  from  its  pre- 

15  Confessions,  8:12. 

16  Confessions,  8:12. 


140         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

vious  bondage,  and  infused  power  now  to  turn  from  all  lower 
aims  to  God.  God  had  wrought,  by  almighty  power,  a  trans- 
formation in  him  which  no  strength  of  his  own  could  have 
effected.  From  this  standpoint  of  a  divinely  effected  renewal 
of  will, —  a  rescue  from  bondage, —  Augustine  henceforth 
viewed  salvation.  His  nature  was  set  free  for  that  delight  in 
God  for  which  he  had  been  made. 

The  student  of  mystical  experiences  has  noted  Augustine's 
conviction  that  the  voice  like  that  of  a  child  heard  by  him 
was  divinely  sent.  It  was  an  "  audition."  Yet  he  must 
have  been  impressed  also  with  the  simple  and  unadorned  way 
in  which  Augustine  narrates  the  incident.  Augustine  was 
not  incredulous  of  the  miraculous.  He  believed  that  mira- 
cles, even  the  cure  of  blindness  17  and  raising  from  the  dead,18 
had  taken  place,  not  infrequently,  in  his  own  days.  In 
the  account  of  his  own  crucial  experience  he  speaks  with  a 
brevity  and  directness  that  carry  conviction  that  the  event 
was  absolutely  real  to  him  and  has  been  fully  told.  What- 
ever weight  may  be  laid  upon  the  intensity  of  the  emotional 
struggle  through  which  Augustine  was  passing  as  explain- 
ing his  experience,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  he  believed 
that  he  heard  the  command,  "  Take  up  and  read  " ;  and 
was  convinced  that  the  admonition  was  of  divine  origin. 
That  the  voice  was  that  of  a  child  in  ordinary  play,  and  the 
experience  that  of  a  coincidence,  was  a  thought  that  occurred 
to  Augustine  himself,  only  to  be  rejected  by  him  because 
he  knew  of  no  game  in  which  such  words  were  used. 
Whether  or  no  the  modern  investigator  will  think  coin- 
cidence the  true  explanation  will  probably  depend  on  his 
temperament  and  prepossessions. 

Thenceforth,  for  Augustine,  God  is  not  only  the  basis 
of  all  reality;  He  is  the  center  of  all  true  life.  In  com- 
parison with   Him   all   is  emptiness   and   shadow.     "  Thou 

17  Confessions,  9  :  7. 
**City  of  God,  22:8. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  AUGUSTINE       141 

hast  formed  us  for  Thyself  and  our  hearts  are  restless  till 
they  find  rest  in  Thee,"  19  is  a  phrase  in  which  Augustine 
summed  up  his  mystic  view  of  man's  true  relation  to  God. 
It  is  Neoplatonism  in  an  interpretation  of  Christian  experi- 
ence. "  The  happy  life  is  this, —  to  rejoice  unto  Thee,  in 
Thee,  and  for  Thee;  this  it  is,  and  there  is  no  other."20 
This  mystical  sense  of  God,  not  divined  from  logical  demon- 
stration, but  from  an  immediate  consciousness  of  His  rela- 
tion to  the  human  soul,  was  Augustine's  most  abiding  con- 
tribution to  the  interpretation  of  religion.  It  is  one  that 
makes  religion  in  its  last  analysis  not  a  belief,  not  an  intel- 
lectual conviction,  not  a  rule  of  life,  though  all  these  flow 
from  religion,  but  a  personal  relationship.  From  this  new 
relationship  between  the  soul  and  God,  right  conduct  neces- 
sarily ensues.  "  This  was  the  result,  that  I  willed  not  to 
do  what  I  willed,  but  willed  to  do  what  Thou  willedst."  21 
Augustine  came  to  his  goal  through  many  wanderings  and 
much  anguish  of  spirit;  but  that  goal,  when  reached,  was 
nothing  less  than  a  knowledge  of  God,  an  enjoyment  of  God, 
and  an  over-ruling  of  his  will  by  that  of  God,  which  were 
to  him  abiding  joy,  contentment  and  rest.  This  experi- 
ence he  mediated  to  those  who  came  after  him,  and  therefore 
Augustine  has  never  ceased  to  be  a  power  in  the  Christian 
church  far  beyond  the  acceptance  of  his  theological  interpre- 
tations. This  experience  was  fundamentally  mystical,  and 
Augustine  therefore  deserves  to  rank  among  the  greatest  of 
the  Christian  mystics. 

19  Confessions,  i :  i. 

20  Confessions,  10:21. 

21  Confessions,  9:1. 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM 
Charles  Cutler  Torrey 

I 

Students  of  Islam  have  expressed  widely  different  views 
as  to  the  extent  to  which  mysticism  enters  into  it  as  a  char- 
acteristic element.  Some  have  asserted  that  it  is  of  all 
the  great  religions  of  the  world  the  one  in  which  mysticism 
holds  the  smallest  place,  and  that  the  so-called  Moham- 
medan mystics  —  who  are  many  —  really  stand,  and  have 
always  stood,  outside  the  circle  of  genuine  Moham- 
medanism. Others,  coming  from  a  study  of  the  practice 
of  the  religion  rather  than  of  its  theory,  have  said  that 
every  devout  Muslim  is  a  true  mystic.  Each  of  these  two 
extreme  statements  has  its  justification,  but  the  latter  comes 
much  nearer  the  truth  than  the  former. 

Orthodox  Mohammedanism  does  rest,  formally,  on  a  single 
strange  book  and  the  personal  example  of  the  peculiar  man 
who  was  its  author,  that  is,  on  the  Koran  and  the  Sunna; 
and  it  is  certain  that  neither  of  the  two  seems  well  fitted 
to  call  forth  that  variety  of  religious  experience  in  which 
the  worshipper  draws  very  near  to  God,  whether  in  con- 
templation or  in  emotion.  On  the  other  hand,  no  great 
religion  can  be  limited  to  the  pattern  of  its  beginnings,  nor 
to  the  content  of  its  formal  orthodoxy. 

Several  factors  have  combined,  in  varying  measure,  to 
produce  this  type  of  religious  experience  in  Islam.  First, 
there  is  the  faith  as  it  has  developed  along  its  main  tradi- 
tional lines,  from  century  to  century,  presenting  a  more  or 
less  homogeneous  body  of  belief  and  experience  shared  in 
by  the  typical  Muslim.     Islam  had  its  own  mystics  even  in 

142 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  143 

its  least  promising  days,  when  it  was  still  the  crude  faith 
of  Arab  tribes.  Moreover,  it  can  be  shown  that  the  Koran 
and  the  life  of  the  Prophet,  even  in  the  light  of  critical 
study,  provide  more  than  a  germ  of  mysticism,  though  gen- 
erally far  enough  removed  from  this  attitude  of  mind  and 
heart. 

Other  factors  needing  to  be  taken  into  account  are  local 
or  racial  tendencies  and  customs,  for  Islam  has  spread  far 
and  taken  on  many  shades  of  color.  The  various  eastern 
lands  possess  their  distinct  types  of  thought  and  emotion, 
which  no  superimposed  religion  can  greatly  affect.  The 
Greek  is  religious  in  a  Greek  way,  whatever  the  nature 
of  his  creed.  A  native  of  China  thinks  and  feels  as  a  China- 
man, whether  he  is  a  Buddhist,  a  Methodist,  or  a  Muslim. 
As  for  the  Arab,  if  his  theology  sometimes  looks  like  ele- 
mentary mathematics,  his  religion  often  seems  like  wildfire. 
Persia  and  India,  as  will  appear,  made  their  characteristic 
contributions  to  that  side  of  Mohammedan  thought  and  life 
with  which  we  are  here  concerned.  Another  factor  from 
the  outside  is  the  influence  of  other  religions.  Christianity, 
in  particular,  has  been  potent  in  encouraging  and  shaping 
Mohammedan  mysticism,  both  through  its  philosophy  and 
still  more  through  the  example  of  its  hermits  and  saints. 

Lastly,  there  is  the  universal  tendency  of  the  human  soul 
in  its  devout  moods.  This  factor,  the  need  of  human  nature 
everywhere,  has  played  a  more  important  part  in  this  re- 
ligious development  than  we  often  realize.  It  can  produce, 
and  has  in  fact  produced,  a  true  mysticism  of  some  sort  on 
every  kind  of  Mohammedan  soil,  in  the  natural  develop- 
ment of  the  faith  with  its  important  by-products.  We  look 
for  what  might  be  expected  as  the  fruit  of  Islam,  and  gen- 
erally find  it;  but  along  with  it  we  often  see  the  religion 
of  a  deep  inner  experience,  with  all  its  warmth  and  excite- 
ment. It  is  interesting  to  see  how  this  was  sometimes 
brought    forward    in    mediaeval     Islam,     as     in    mediaeval 


i44         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Christianity,  by  the  reaction  against  extreme  scholasticism. 

As  for  Mohammed  himself,  his  habitual  attitude  of  mind 
was  not  at  all  that  of  a  mystic ;  and  he  is  ordinarily  included 
in  discussions  of  this  particular  subject  chiefly  by  reason  of 
certain  remarkable  psychic  phenomena  which  are  character- 
istic of  that  elusive  being  Mohammed  the  Prophet  rather 
than  of  Mohammed  the  Muslim.  The  story  of  his  visions 
and  dreams  certainly  belongs  to  the  literature  of  mysticism, 
and  is  a  highly  interesting  example  of  its  kind.  It  can 
hardly  be  omitted  here,  though  it  is  not  possible  to  do  more 
than  touch  upon  the  subject  very  briefly. 

Mohammed,  like  not  a  few  other  of  the  foremost  religious 
leaders  of  history,  was  gifted  with  a  nervous  disorder  of 
some  sort,  the  effect  of  which  appeared  in  various  ways. 
We  know  that  during  his  public  career,  that  is,  from  the 
year  611  or  612  a.  d.,  when  he  was  about  forty  years  old, 
to  the  year  of  his  death,  632,  he  was  subject  to  peculiar 
seizures,  which  have  sometimes  been  regarded  as  epileptic 
but  probably  were  of  a  less  serious  nature.  These  fits,  in 
regard  to  which  we  have  the  abundant  but  exaggerated  and 
often  plainly  untrustworthy  testimony  of  his  contemporaries, 
originally  played  an  important  part  in  the  experiences  which 
convinced  him  that  he  was  given  a  divine  message  to  his 
people,  and  in  subsequent  times  seem  regularly  to  have  been 
connected  in  some  way  with  the  successive  utterances  which 
make  up  the  Koran.  Whether  he  had  experienced  any  such 
seizures  in  his  earlier  years  we  are  not  informed ;  but  if 
not  actually  produced  for  the  first  time  they  must  at  least 
have  been  given  a  new  power  by  the  intense  nervous  ex- 
citement under  which  he  labored  for  some  time  previous  to 
his  first  "  revelation." 

Mohammed's  mind  was  filled  with  certain  ideas  which  he 
had  obtained  directly  or  indirectly  from  Jews  and  Christians: 
One  God,  the  creator  of  man  and  of  all  things;  sin,  divine 
wrath,  and  the  judgment  day;  heaven  and  hell;  a  written 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  145 

revelation  sent  from  God  to  man  for  his  guidance;  a  suc- 
cession of  prophets,  through  whom  the  messages  are  sent. 
Over  these  ideas  he  brooded,  while  his  agitation  was  increased 
by  the  fasting  and  vigils  which  the  well-known  habit  of 
Christian  ascetics  had  recommended  to  him.  It  was  then 
that  there  came  upon  him  such  attacks  as  were  ordinarily 
attributed,  among  the  Arabs  of  his  time,  to  possession  by 
jinns,  but  which  he  soon  felt  certain  were  manifestations 
of  the  power  of  God  working  in  him,  and  the  means  of  in- 
spiring him  to  utter  divine  messages.  The  Jews  and 
Christians  had  been  favored  in  the  past;  the  time  had  now 
come  for  the  Arabs  to  be  given  their  own  revelation,  and 
he,  Mohammed,  was  the  chosen  instrument.  The  fits  were 
a  heaven-sent  gift,  and  it  seems  quite  plain  that  at  this  time 
they  came  upon  him  unawares,  as  the  result  of  his  nervous 
condition;  the  nature  of  their  continuance  in  after  years  — 
how  far  they  were  involuntary  and  how  far  encouraged  or 
reproduced  by  his  own  excited  volition  —  must  remain  a 
matter  of  conjecture.  It  is  not  difficult  to  suppose  that  such 
a  physical  aptitude,  once  established,  could  eventually  be- 
come a  habit,  to  be  called  upon  whenever  the  circumstances 
required.  This  hypothesis  agrees  best  with  the  mass  of  testi- 
mony which  has  come  down  to  us,  and  especially  with  what 
we  find  in  every  part  of  the  Koran.  We  can  hardly  doubt 
that  a  certain  apparatus  of  revelation  was  very  soon  recog- 
nized by  Mohammed,  and  that  it  continued  to  be  employed 
throughout  his  career,  the  only  variation  being  presumably 
in  the  degree  of  intensity  which  the  nervous  excitement 
reached. 

It  is  sufficiently  obvious  that  the  vast  majority  of  Moham- 
med's outgivings  in  the  Koran  were  neither  produced  nor 
fostered  by  any  trance-like  condition.  On  the  other  hand, 
every  reader  must  recognize  that  their  author  was  not  one 
to  whom  composition  was  easy ;  even  the  most  commonplace 
and  matter-of-fact  of  his  utterances  were  the  fruit  of  tra- 


146  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

vail.  The  effort  which  produced  them  always  had  in  it 
something  abnormal.  To  the  day  of  his  death  he  seems 
never  to  have  doubted  for  a  moment  that  he  was  a  prophet, 
gifted  with  a  prophet's  special  privileges;  his  mental  pro- 
cesses, when  he  was  speaking  as  God's  mouthpiece,  were  not 
like  those  of  other  men,  but  were  divinely  directed.  After 
the  emotional  paroxysm,  through  which  he  believed  himself 
to  receive  illumination  from  above,  followed  a  struggle 
with  the  ideas  and  phrases  of  the  message,  until  at  last  it 
was  worked  into  shape.  Whatever  form  of  words  Moham- 
med thus  decided  upon  was  the  one  to  which  he  was  guided 
by  the  angel  of  revelation;  of  this  he  was  fully  persuaded. 
Every  single  verse  of  his  book  was  a  "  heavenly  sign  "  (aya) . 

To  the  earliest  period  of  Mohammed's  self-consciousness 
as  a  prophet  belong  certain  visions  in  regard  to  which  we 
are  so  fortunate  as  to  have  the  testimony  of  his  own  words, 
in  the  Koran.  The  experiences  to  which  he  alludes  appear 
to  have  been  genuine  hallucinations,  in  which  he  believed 
himself  to  see  clearly  with  the  bodily  eye  "  things  not  law- 
ful to  be  uttered  "  (as  St.  Paul  says  of  his  own  experi- 
ence). Certainly  he  entertained  no  doubt  that  the  heavenly 
visitor  (Gabriel)  actually  came  to  him  in  some  visible  form. 
The  first  of  the  passages  of  this  nature  is  Sura  (Chapter) 
81 :  19-24.  Verily,  this  (i.  e.,  the  teaching  here  given  forth) 
is  the  word  of  a  noble  Messenger ;  *  one  who  has  poiver  and 
influence  with  the  Lord  of  the  Throne  (ie.,  God  himself). 
*  .  .  .  Your  companion  (i.e.,  Mohammed)  is  not  de- 
mented; *  nay,  he  indeed  saw  him  there,  in  full  view,  on 
the  horizon. 

The  second  passage,  which  mentions  two  different  visions, 
is  a  little  more  circumstantial  and  characterized  by  a  truly 
dramatic  vividness,  in  spite  of  its  obscurity.  Sura  53:  1-18: 
By  the  star  when  it  fell!  *  Your  companion  was  not  mis- 
taken nor  in  error,  *  nor  is  he  speaking  out  of  his  own 
fancy,  *  Nay,  this  was  naught  else  than  a  revelation,  *  given 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  147 

him  by  a  mighty  one,  *  one  endued  with  power;  who  bal- 
anced himself,  *  there,  just  above  the  horizon;  *  then  he 
drew  near,  and  nearer,  *  until  he  was  distant  only  tivo  boivs'- 
lengths,  or  less.  *  Then  he  revealed  to  his  servant  that  which 
he  revealed.  *  The  mind  was  not  deceived  in  what  it  saw;  * 
will  ye  dispute  with  him  regarding  that  which  his  eyes  be- 
held? *  Yea,  he  saw  him  come  down  on  another  occasion,  * 
by  the  sidra  tree,  at  the  boundary,  *  near  the  garden  of  re- 
sort; *  when  there  covered  the  tree  that  which  covered  it. 
*  The  eye  did  not  wander,  nor  zuas  it  deceived;  *  nay,  he 
saw  some  of  the  great  signs  of  his  Lord. 

Mohammed's  first  meeting  with  the  angel  of  revelation 
had  come  in  the  form  of  a  dream.  For  the  account  of 
this  happening  we  are  dependent  on  the  Prophet's  reported 
words,  but  the  corroborating  evidence  is  strong  and  has  gen- 
erally been  so  regarded.  Mohammed  knew  very  well  what 
utterance  in  the  Koran  was  the  oldest  and  formed  its  begin- 
ning; this  wTas  a  thing  that  he  could  never  have  forgotten. 
The  members  of  his  family,  his  first  disciples,  the  increasing 
company  of  his  devoted  adherents  through  a  period  of  twenty 
years,  must  have  felt  an  intense  interest  in  this  very  ques- 
tion, and  we  have  only  the  one  oft-repeated  tradition.  More- 
over the  account,  wThen  compared  with  the  corresponding 
passage  in  the  Koran,  bears  internal  marks  of  truth  as  far 
as  the  main  facts  are  concerned;  doubtless  some  of  the  de- 
tails are  the  result  of  later  embellishment. 

Like  some  other  earnest  Arabs  of  his  own  time  and  many 
of  a  later  day,  Mohammed  had  occasionally  gone  out  alone 
into  the  neighboring  wilderness  for  several  days  at  a  time, 
in  imitation  of  the  Christian  monks,  who  were  known  to  re- 
ceive supernatural  power  through  this  mode  of  life.  There 
was  a  cave  in  the  rugged  mountain  above  Mekka,  and  in 
this  he  took  refuge.  One  night,  when  he  was  sleeping  there, 
the  angel  Gabriel  suddenly  stood  before  him,  bearing  a  strip 
of  silk  on  which  some  words  were  written.     "  Read!  "  com- 


148         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

manded  the  angel.  But  Mohammed,  to  whom  reading  and 
writing  were  probably  laborious  processes  at  best,  and  who 
was  badly  frightened  into  the  bargain,  declined.  "  I  can- 
not," he  said.  Thereupon  his  visitor  laid  hold  of  him  and 
wround  the  silk  about  his  face  and  throat  so  tightly  that  he 
could  hardly  breathe.  Then,  releasing  him,  he  said  again, 
"Read!"  Mohammed  answered  as  before,  and  again  the 
angel  choked  him  with  the  cloth  until  he  was  almost  suf- 
focated. Letting  him  go  at  last,  he  said  for  the  third  time, 
11  Read !  "  Then  poor  Mohammed,  with  the  one  thought 
of  postponing  the  choking  process  as  long  as  possible,  stam- 
mered out,  "  What  shall  I  read  ?  "  The  answer  was  the 
first  Arabic  revelation,  that  which  was  to  be  the  beginning 
of  the  Koran  (96:  1-5)  :  Read!  In  the  name  of  thy  Lord, 
who  created;  *  created  man  from  a  blood-clot.  *  Read!  for* 
thy  Lord  is  the  most  gracious  one;  *  who  taught  man  to 
write  with  the  pen;  *  taught  him  what  he  had  not  known. 
Mohammed  repeated  these  words,  whereupon  Gabriel 
vanished.  "  Then,"  Mohammed  is  reported  to  have  said,  "  I 
awoke,  and  it  seemed  as  though  the  words  had  been  written 
on  my  heart  with  an  iron  pen." 

The  Prophet  and  his  followers  of  course  looked  upon  this 
as  a  supernatural  occurrence,  a  real  visit  of  the  angel  Gabriel ; 
we,  however,  may  see  in  it  the  tolerably  accurate  record  of 
an  ordinary  nightmare.  The  sudden  apparition,  the  physi- 
cal distress  like  suffocation,  the  words  which  cling  to  the 
memory,  the  awaking  at  the  climax  of  the  dream,  are  all 
very  familiar.  As  for  the  few  sentences  which  Gabriel 
recited,  they  are  as  commonplace,  and  as  imperfectly  con- 
nected, as  such  oracles  by  dream  are  apt  to  be.  They  con- 
cern matters  with  which  Mohammed's  soul  was  then  tor- 
mented, particularly  the  idea  of  a  written  teaching  inspired 
from  heaven.  It  is  also  significant  that  the  five  successive 
phrases  are  couched  in  the  rhymed  prose  in  which  the  native 
soothsayers,  or  kdhins  —  something  like  the   tribal   "  medi- 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  149 

cine  men  "  of  the  American  Indians  —  had  been  accustomed 
to  give  forth  their  charms  and  other  oracular  utterances. 
Mohammed  must  often  have  thought  of  this  form  of  dis- 
course as  the  traditionally  Arabian  garb  of  prophecy.  From 
this  time  on  he  employed  it,  and  Gabriel  (whose  ear  for 
rhyme,  it  would  seem,  was  not  quite  perfect)  always  gave 
him  the  needed  assistance. 

Subsequent  dreams  and  apparitions  said  to  have  been  ex- 
perienced by  Mohammed  are  of  minor  consequence,  and  have 
no  such  authentication  as  those  above  described.  It  is  to 
be  noted  that  there  was  no  vision  of  Allah,  but  only  of 
Allah's  messenger,  with  whom  the  Prophet  throughout  the 
remainder  of  his  life  continued  to  feel  himself  in  close  touch. 

As  has  already  been  said,  these  experiences  of  the  nascent 
Prophet  of  the  Arabs  are  merely  a  part  of  his  peculiar  per- 
sonal history,  and  have  little  or  no  bearing  on  the  religious 
life  of  the  ordinary  Muslim.  When  our  inquiry  concerns 
mysticism  in  the  ordinary  connotation,  that  introspective, 
self-devoting,  emotional  variety  of  religion  in  which  the 
worshipper  strives  after,  and  feels  that  he  achieves,  a  close 
personal  relation  with  the  Divine  Spirit,  we  certainly  do  not 
expect  to  find  it  prominent  in  this  crude  Arabian  system  of 
belief  and  practice.  Mohammed's  mind  was  of  a  meditative, 
brooding  type,  but  not  introspective  nor  capable  of  philos- 
ophizing. His  formulation  of  Islam  is  typically  objective 
and  concrete,  practical  and  with  little  of  the  emotional  ele- 
ment; the  idea  of  communion  with  God  seems  hardly  present 
in  it.  The  Allah  of  the  Koran  generally  makes  on  the  reader 
the  impression  of  a  magnified  Mekkan  merchant  removed 
to  an  infinite  distance  from  mankind.  The  first  person 
singular,  used  either  of  God  or  of  his  worshipper,  hardly 
occurs  in  the  Koran  at  all;  the  only  direct  and  unmediated 
address  to  God  by  the  worshipper  (in  the  first  person 
plural)  is  in  the  brief  opening  chapter.  The  attitude  of 
mind  in  which  the  devotee  speaks  out  of  a  personal  intimacy 


150  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

with  the  deity  is  generally  quite  foreign  to  the  book.  We 
see  no  emphasis  laid  on  the  "  spiritual  life  "  or  the  "  care 
of  the  soul."  So  far  as  would  appear  from  the  Koran, 
the  spiritual  life  is  a  matter  of  small  concern.  The  Muslim 
is  not  required  to  care  for  his  soul.  In  embracing  the  new 
faith  he  may  need  to  change  his  mind,  but  not  his  heart. 
There  is  no  catechuminate  in  the  Islam  of  the  Koran.  If 
we  look  for  something  to  correspond  to  the  passionate  quest 
of  the  personified  Wisdom,  in  the  Hebrew  scriptures,  the 
dearest  companion,  to  whom  the  lover  clings,  when  he  has 
found  her;  or  to  such  mystical  figures  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment as  the  bread  and  water  of  life,  or  the  vine  and  the 
branches;  we  shall  search  in  vain.  These  things  are  all  re- 
mote from  Mohammed's  teaching.  Some  striking  utterances 
of  the  sort  appear  in  the  orthodox  Tradition,  to  be  sure  — 
thanks  to  the  Sufi  traditionists  who  put  them  there. 

But  we  shall  certainly  go  astray  if  we  try  to  measure 
Mohammed's  own  "  Islam  "  by  the  Koran.  From  the  fact 
that  he  says  very  little  about  religious  emotion,  whether  his 
own  or  that  of  others,  it  is  indeed  a  fair  inference  that  this 
played  a  minor  part  in  his  conception  of  the  faith;  but  we 
are  not  warranted  in  assuming  that  what  we  have  before 
us  in  the  singular  book  is  anything  like  a  sufficient  record  of 
his  personal  religious  experience.  Neither  he  nor  his  earliest 
zealous  adherents  —  hot-blooded  orientals,  always  easily 
moved  and  desiring  to  be  moved  —  could  have  been  satisfied 
with  a  service  which  had  in  it  no  passionate  devotion.  They 
found  in  fact  in  Islam  what  they  desired  and  needed  to  find ; 
that,  moreover,  which  truly  had  formed  a  part  of  it  from 
the  beginning. 

Mohammed  was  not  a  man  of  many  words;  we  receive 
everywhere  the  impression  that  he  was  one  who  was  wont  to 
listen  and  think  while  others  talked.  It  is  not  his  habit  to 
reveal  himself  in  the  Koran,  though  he  very  often  does  so 
involuntarily,  where  we  can   read  between   the   lines.     He 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  151 

does  not  present  to  view,  save  by  occasional  hints,  the  strug- 
gles, aspirations,  and  exultation  of  the  Muslim;  partly,  no 
doubt,  because  of  the  difficulty  of  expressing  himself,  but 
partly  also  because  by  disposition  he  was  reserved  and  spar- 
ing in  his  utterances.  He  was  more  at  home  in  dealing  with 
facts  than  with  feelings.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  ever 
encouraged  his  followers  to  unbosom  themselves  to  the  public 
in  confessions  or  homilies,  beyond  the  simple  repetition  of 
what  was  provided  for  them  in  his  revealed  book.  Long- 
winded  helpers  he  could  dispense  with.  The  saying  at- 
tributed to  him:  "  the  length  of  a  man's  prayer  and  the  short- 
ness of  his  sermon  are  the  signs  of  his  understanding,"  gives 
at  least  a  true  impression  of  both  his  preference  and  his  own 
practice.  In  view  of  this  habitual  reticence  it  is  all  the  more 
noteworthy  that  we  do  find  in  the  Koran  occasional  passages 
which  have  in  them  something  like  the  lyrical  depth  and 
pathos  of  the  Hebrew  Psalmists  when  they  say :  "  Thou 
hast  delivered  my  soul  from  death,  mine  eyes  from  tears,  and 
my  feet  from  falling,"  or  even  this:  "As  the  hart  pants 
for  the  running  brooks,  so  my  soul  thirsts  for  Thee."  Thus 
the  soliloquy  in  93 : 5  ff. :  Verily  thy  Lord  will  grant 
thee  favor,  and  show  thee  mercy.  *  Did  He  not  find  thee 
an  orphan j  and  give  thee  a  home?  *  Did  He  not  find  thee 
wandering,  and  guide  thee?  *  Yea,  He  found  thee  poor,  and 
made  thee  prosperous.  *  Deal  not  harshly,  then,  with  the 
orphan,  *  and  turn  not  away  him  who  comes  enquiring.  * 
And  as  for  the  kindness  of  thy  Lord,  proclaim  it!  *  And 
again,  a  very  similar  passage,  94:  1  ff. :  "Did  we  not  open 
thy  heart?  *  and  take  from  thy  back  the  galling  load?  *  and 
give  thee  a  better  name?  *  Verily,  along  with  trouble  comes 
relief ;  *  yea,  along  with  trouble  comes  relief!  *  Then  when 
thou  art  at  liberty,  be  zealous,  *  and  eagerly  desire  thy 
Lord.  * 

Obviously,  this  is  no  far  distant  God.     It  must  not  be 
forgotten,  moreover,  that  in  not  a  few  passages  the  Prophet, 


152         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

contradicting  the  plain  impression  given  by  his  ordinary  ut- 
terances, asserts  emphatically  that  God  is  near  at  hand,  close 
to  the  worshipper,  closer  even  than  any  human  being  can  be. 
58:  8:     Ther,e  is  no  secret  conference  of  three  in  which  He 
is  not  the  fourth,  nor  of  five  in  which  He  is  not  the  sixth. 
Be  the  number  less  or  more,  He  is  with  them  wherever  they 
are.     50:15:     We  created  man,   We  know  what  his  soul 
whispers  to  him,  and  We  are  nearer  to  him  than  his  jugular 
vein.     2:  109:      Whichever  way  ye  turn,  there  is  God's  face. 
The  Prophet  is  fond  of  the  phrase:  "  eager  desire  for  the 
face  of  God,"  using  the  same  verb-root  that  is  employed  in 
the  exhortation   "  eagerly  desire   thy   Lord,"   quoted   above. 
In  the  strength  supplied  by  this  motive  the  Muslim  gives 
his  alms  liberally,  endures  persecution  for  the  faith,  and  offers 
all  that  he  has,   including  his  life,  for  the  cause  of  Allah 
(2:274;    13:22;   92:20).     Whatever  the  scholastic  theo- 
logians might  make  of  this  "  face,"  it  is  certain  that  to  the 
ordinary  believer  it  signified  the  veritable  and  visible  person 
of    God.     I    have   no    doubt   that    this   is   what   the   phrase 
meant  to  Mohammed  himself,  as  he  repeated  it.     We  may 
also  compare  such  a  passage  as  55  :  26  f. :     Every  one  on  earth 
must  pass  away,  but  the  majestic,  glorious  face  of  thy  Lord 
shall  endure.     Here  was  material  for  mysticism.     Degrees 
of  approach  to  the  divine  presence  in  the  next  life  are  hinted 
at  in  more  than  one  passage,  especially  in  the  phrase  "  those 
who  are  brought  near  (to  God),"  the  word  being  the  same 
which  is  used  elsewhere  in  speaking  of  the  angels,  and  of 
Jesus  the  son  of  Mary.     Thus  in  83 :  18,  21  there  is  mention 
of  the  Book  of  the  righteous  .  .  .  those  nigh  to  God  shall 
witness  it.     Here  was  food   for  the  popular  conception  of 
sainthood,  sure  to  develop  very  soon. 

The  assembling  of  these  passages  and  others  of  the  same 
character  makes  it  plain  that  the  Koran,  though  a  text-book 
of  all  that  is  external,  rigid,  and  rudely  manufactured  in 
theology,   has  yet   its   portions   in   which   genuine   religious 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  153 

fervor  comes  to  the  surface.  Primitive  Islam  is  u  child- 
like "  not  only  in  its  crude  ignorance,  but  also  in  its  frequent 
manifestation  of  a  simple,  warm  faith.  The  Arab  who  was 
inclined  to  be  religious  —  and  there  were  many  such,  the 
first  two  caliphs,  Abu  Bekr  and  Omar,  among  them  —  would 
surely  be  moved  as  he  listened  to  the  passages  quoted  above, 
carried  them  away  in  his  memory,  and  said  them  over  and 
over  to  himself.  The  fervent  mood  would  be  encouraged  by 
the  ever-recurring  formula,  "  the  merciful  Compassionate 
One,"  and  by  the  earnest,  intimate  petitions  of  the  Muslim's 
''Lord's  Prayer":  Thee  we  serve,  and  Thee  we  ask  for 
help;  *  lead  us  in  the  right  way,  *  the  way  of  those  to  whom 
Thou  art  gracious.  *  In  the  face  of  such  words  as  these, 
no  dogma  could  persuade  that  Allah  was  far  away  or  hard 
to  reach. 

It  must  be  remembered  also  that  there  is  an  important 
source  of  excitement,  of  a  kind  that  can  contribute  to  re- 
ligious emotion,  in  the  literary  form  of  the  Koran,  with  its 
musical  rhythm  and  its  rhymed  verse-endings.  The  Arabs 
had  a  remarkably  acute  sense  of  rhythm,  and  were  easily 
moved  by  the  sound  of  poetry.  In  the  tales  of  the  Aghani 
or  the  Thousand  and  One  Nights,  or  still  other  collections, 
it  is  a  commonplace  that  the  hero  or  heroine,  or  perhaps  a 
mere  bystander,  falls  to  the  ground  in  a  swoon  on  hearing  a 
fine  poem  recited.  From  the  testimony  of  native  writers 
and  the  experience  of  modern  times  we  know  that  there  was 
no  great  exaggeration  in  this.  Mohammed  had  the  Arab's 
feeling  for  the  sound  of  words  and  the  cadence  of  the  phrase ; 
in  general,  his  rhetorical  instinct  was  strong.  The  early 
suras  (chapters)  of  the  Koran  are  all  made  up  of  short  and 
vigorous  sentences,  often  truly  thrilling  in  their  eloquence. 
They  were  to  be  recited  aloud,  not  read  silently,  and  every- 
where the  sound  plays  its  important  part;  many  passages 
which  in  translation  are  merely  futile  or  almost  ridiculous 
have  in   the  original  Arabic  a  splendid   resonance.     These 


154         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

were  utterances  not  easily  forgotten  when  heard,  and  they 
were  remembered  all  the  more  readily  because  of  the 
rhyme.  Some  striking  verses  are  many  times  repeated  in 
different  places,  and  in  two  or  three  of  the  suras  a  single 
phrase  is  carried  through  as  a  regular  refrain.  There  is 
varied  strong  emotion  in  all  this  earlier  part  of  the  book: 
conviction  of  sin,  terror,  hope,  joy,  burning  zeal  and  fierce 
indignation,  aspiration,  and  an  affectionate  trust  in  the  Merci- 
ful Helper  which  needed  little  added  stimulus  in  order  to 
become  truly  passionate.  Through  the  act  of  reciting  or 
chanting  these  divinely  given  verses,  the  Muslim  of  the  most 
devout  type  was  sure  to  be  powerfully  stirred. 

An  incident  which  may  be  taken  as  typical  is  narrated  in 
a  tradition  of  which  Abu  Bekr  is  the  principal  figure.  The 
time  was  shortly  before  the  hijra,  when  some  of  Moham- 
med's followers  were  driven  out  of  Mekka  by  determined 
persecution.  Abu  Bekr,  who  was  a  mild,  conciliatory  man 
and  a  good  citizen,  was  allowed  to  remain  unmolested  under 
the  condition  that  he  should  enjoy  his  new  religion  indoors, 
and  not  make  it  a  public  nuisance.  But  he  soon  found  it 
convenient  to  make  a  praying-place  in  his  back  yard  (as  we 
should  say),  and  there  at  length  he  appeared  daily,  reciting 
the  Koran  and  repeating  its  prayers,  while  his  voice  broke 
and  the  tears  streamed  down  his  cheeks ;  observed  all  the  time 
with  breathless  interest  by  an  audience  of  Mekkan  women 
and  children,  who  stood  as  near  as  they  dared.  Whether 
the  story  is  true  or  not  (it  comes  from  his  daughter 
Ayesha,  whose  imagination  sometimes  outstrips  her  memory), 
it  at  least  shows  how  the  reading  of  the  Koran  was  sup- 
posed to  affect  a  pious  and  susceptible  man.  Many  other 
traditions  and  anecdotes  describe  similarly  the  devotions  of 
other  prominent  Muslims  of  the  earliest  time. 

Again  and  again,  and  with  marked  emphasis,  Moham- 
med urges  his  followers  to  pray;  to  pray  often,  and  con- 
tinuously, and  with  fervor.     These  injunctions  of  the  Koran 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  155 

have  been  most  Influential  in  promoting  a  mystical  type  of 
religion;  they  also  show  us  something  of  the  inner  side  of 
the   Prophet's   own    life,    a   phase   of   his   personal   religious 
experience  of  which  we  can  say  with  certainty  that  it  meant 
much  both  to  him  and  to  his  adherents,  and  yet  in  regard 
to   which   our  only  satisfactory  testimony   is   indirect.     He 
was  just  the  man  to  be  carried  away  by  religious  emotion, 
quite  apart  from  the  prophetic  paroxysms  in  which  he  sought 
and   found  the  impulse  to  his  inspired  utterances.     Prayer 
is  solitude,  and  in  the  still  hours  of  the  night,  he  especially 
recommends  it  to  those  who  are  looking  for  "  the  guidance." 
Thus  for  example  the  Koran,  50:39:     Through  the  night 
celebrate  his  praise;  and  again,  51:  17  f. :     The  pious  .  .  . 
little  of  the  night  they  slept,  and  at  the  dawn  they  prayed 
for  forgiveness.     In  general,  his  own  private  devotions  were 
noted  both  for  their  length  and  for  their  uninterrupted  in- 
tensity.    A  saying  attributed  to  him:     "  The  best  worship  is 
the  most  secret,"  which  may  be  seen  inscribed  in  decorative 
characters  on  the  gloriously  colored  tiles  of  many  a  mosque, 
is  certainly  in  accord  with  numerous  passages  in  the  Koran. 
No  one  familiar  with  the  evidence  of  Mohammed's  per- 
sonal influence  and  with  the  spirit  of  his  earliest  followers 
—  the  "  Companions  " —  could  doubt  that  there  were  those 
who  obeyed   these  divine   injunctions   to   the  limit   of   their 
physical  endurance.     The  oldest  tales  of  the  Muslim  com- 
munity show  us  not  a  few  men  seeking  long  and  earnestly 
after  a  religious  experience,  in  the  same  way  that  the  de- 
votees of  other  faiths  have  sought.     It  was  not  merely  that 
they  wanted  to  be  better  men ;  they  were  persuaded  that  they 
needed,  and  could  have,  some  sort  of  communion  with  Allah, 
and  they  were  wont  to  spend  some  part  of  every  twenty-four 
hours  alone  with  him.     The  most  primitive  traditions,  sup- 
ported by  the  Koran,  put  this  fact  quite  beyo'nd  doubt.     Of 
course  such  men  were  exceptional;  yet  they  were  a  fruit  of 
Islam.     There  are  many  characteristic  anecdotes  of  public 


156         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

men,  such  as  Said  ibn  Amir,  the  governor  of  Emesa  under 
the  caliph  Omar,  who  attended  faithfully  to  his  official  duties 
all  day  long  and  was  equally  faithful  to  his  private  devo- 
tions while  other  men  slept;  or  Sulaim  ibn  Itr,  one  of  the 
first  to  hold  the  office  of  kadi  (judge)  in  Egypt,  who  set 
apart  three  periods  of  each  night  for  reciting  the  Koran.  Of 
Sulaim  it  is  also  narrated  that  after  undergoing  a  certain 
sea  voyage  in  rough  weather  he  stayed  in  a  cave  seven  days 
thanking  God  for  deliverance  (the  Arabs  were  not  sea-faring 
men).  Whatever  our  opinion  of  the  trustworthiness  of  these 
anecdotes,  they  unquestionably  show  us  the  ideal  of  Muslim 
sainthood  in  the  earliest  period,  before  the  Sufi  fraternity 
had  made  its  appearance. 

Even  the  public  worship,  for  all  its  unedifying  stiffness, 
could  provide  some  food  for  the  mystic.  There  is  a  power- 
ful appeal  in  the  human  voice,  for  those  who  are  ready  to 
be  moved,  and  Islam  has  been  fortunate  in  the  manner  and 
extent  of  its  use  of  this  instrument.  It  was  probably  ac- 
cident, or  stress  of  circumstances,  rather  than  instinct,  that 
led  Mohammed,  in  arranging  for  the  call  to  prayer,  to 
eschew  the  bells,  resounding  suspended  rods,  and  other  gong- 
like devices  of  the  Christians,  and  employ  instead  a  huge 
negro  with  a  throat  of  brass.  Bilal  had  been  tortured  for 
the  faith  before  the  flight  from  Mekka,  and  when  the 
tremendous  but  melodious  voice  was  heard  in  Medina  call- 
ing to  prayer,  the  listeners  were  stirred  not  only  by  the  mere 
sound  and  by  the  solemn  words  of  the  call,  but  also  by  a 
personal  reminder  of  what  the  faith  meant.  A  peculiar 
spiritual  asset  of  Islam,  all  through  its  long  history,  in  many 
lands  and  peoples,  has  been  the  thrill  produced  by  the  chant 
of  the  muezzin,  especially  in  the  early  morning.  It  has  set 
many  a  soul  to  pondering  the  deeper  meaning  of  the  cry: 
11  Prayer  is  better  than  sleep !  " 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  157 

II 

At  some  time  in  the  latter  part  of  the  second  century 
after  Mohammed  arose  the  Sufis,  mystics  throughout  their 
history.  As  we  first  hear  of  them  they  are  simply  Muslim 
ascetics  living  a  life  very  much  like  that  of  the  monks  and 
mendicant  friars  of  the  Christian  faith.  They  were  called 
Sufis  because  of  the  robe  of  coarse  wool  (suf)  which  they 
wore.  Just  when  and  where  the  name  was  first  given,  and 
how  the  consciousness  of  a  distinct  brotherhood  came  into 
being,  is  uncertain.  Eventually  the  designation  included 
numerous  differing  tendencies,  and  the  fraternity  in  its 
various  branches  spread  over  the  whole  Mohammedan  world, 
from  the  East  Indian  archipelago  to  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 
To  do  it  even  scant  justice  would  require  a  volume. 

The  movement  which  produced  the  Sufis  of  the  earliest 
type  arose  naturally  within  the  Muslim  ranks  as  a  further 
development  of  the  religious  tendency  described  in  the  pre- 
ceding pages.  Two  factors,  especially,  combined  to  bring 
this  about.  One  was  the  reaction  of  piety  against  increas- 
ing worldliness,  and  the  other  was  the  influence  of  the 
Christian  religion.  Christianity  from  the  first  left  its  dis- 
tinct traces  on  Sufism,  and  even  more  in  its  somewhat  later 
stages  than  at  the  very  beginning.  The  manner  of  life 
of  those  Christians  who  had  a  wide  reputation  for  holiness 
and  for  the  special  powers  and  prerogatives  of  sainthood 
made  its  impression  on  the  more  devout  minded  of  the 
Mohammedans.  More  potent,  however,  was  the  impulse 
from  within  Islam.  The  contrast  between  this  best  of  all 
religions  and  the  daily  life  of  those  who  professed  it  was  a 
startling  one  for  thinking  men.  They  knew  something  of 
the  fruit  which  other  religions  could  produce,  for  Jews, 
Christians,  and  Zoroastrians  were  within  easy  reach.  The 
Koran  warns,  a  hundred  times  over,  that  every  man  will  be 
called  to  account  for  what  he  has  done  or  left  undone.     It 


158         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

declares,  moreover,  with  emphasis  that  at  the  judgment  day 
and  in  the  life  to  come  the  status  of  those  who  deny  them- 
selves and  give  their  lives  to  the  service  of  Allah  will  be 
very  different  from  that  of  the  careless  multitude.  45:20: 
"  Do  those  who  commit  evil  deeds  supose  that  we  will  make 
them  equal  in  their  life  and  their  death  to  those  who  believe 
and  work  righteous  deeds?"  46:  12:  "Verily,  those  who 
say,  '  Our  Lord  is  God,'  and  then  live  uprightly,  there  is  no 
fear  for  them."  3:  136:  "  Do  ye  think  that  ye  can  enter 
Paradise  and  God  not  know  which  of  you  have  striven, 
and  have  remained  steadfast?  "  3:  146:  "  Among  you  are 
those  who  love  this  world,  and  among  you  are  those  who 
love  the  world  to  come."  3:  139:  "  He  who  desires  the 
reward  of  this  world  shall  receive  it  from  us,  and  he  who  de- 
sires the  rewTard  of  the  world  to  come  shall  likewise  receive 
it."  Even  the  professed  Muslim  had  need  to  fear  the  "  day 
of  reckoning."  The  reported  last  words  of  Amr  ibn  al-Asi", 
the  conqueror  of  Egypt,  afford  a  good  illustration.  His  son 
Abdallah,  standing  at  his  bedside  and  seeing  his  evident 
distress,  asked:  "  Is  this  fear  of  death,  my  father?  "  "  Not 
so,"  replied  the  old  warrior,  "  but  of  what  is  to  come  after 
death."  Abdallah  tried  to  reassure  him  by  reminding  him  of 
his  companionship  with  the  Prophet  and  of  the  many  battles 
he  had  fought  for  the  faith.  But  Amr  would  not  be  com- 
forted. "  Islam  has  had  three  stages  for  me,"  he  said.  "  At 
first,  I  fought  against  the  Prophet  and  did  him  all  the  harm 
I  could.  If  I  had  died  then,  there  could  have  been  no  doubt. 
1  Hell-fire  for  Amr,'  men  would  have  said.  Then  came  the 
day  when  Mohammed  took  my  hand,  and  I  swore  al- 
legiance to  him.  If  I  had  died  then,  men  would  have  said: 
'Amr  has  turned  Muslim;  we  believe  that  Allah  has  good 
in  store  for  him.'  I  thought  that  Islam  would  keep  me 
from  sinning.  But  soon  came  military  command,  and  high 
office,  and  great  temptations.  I  have  fear  for  this  last 
stage." 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  159 

When  foreign  lands  were  conquered,  and  the  Moham- 
medan state  became  a  great  world  power,  the  simple,  up- 
right life  of  Abu  Bekr  and  Omar,  the  first  successors  of 
Mohammed,  was  soon  left  far  behind.  The  caliphate  be- 
came a  scandal,  the  lesser  officials  were  too  often  tyrants 
and  profligates,  and  the  common  people,  as  usual,  followed 
the  example  of  their  rulers  to  the  best  of  their  ability.  The 
devout  minority  felt  that  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the 
saints  was  going  to  the  dogs.  Wherever  they  turned  they 
saw  greed,  the  pursuit  of  luxury,  loose  morals,  and  neglect 
of  religious  duties.  The  Koran,  the  Word  of  God,  though 
nominally  reverenced  was  really  made  a  mockery.  They  had 
thought  of  Islam  as  a  unit,  but  were  now  horrified  to  see 
it  breaking  up  into  rival  camps  warring  fiercely  with  one 
another.  No  wonder  that  spontaneously  in  various  Moham- 
medan lands  there  arose  companies  or  fraternities  pledged 
to  an  ascetic  life,  in  strong  reaction  against  the  prevailing 
worldliness.  "  Back  to  Allah!  "  was  their  watchword,  and 
they  found  the  true  meaning  of  islam  in  such  maxims  as 
these:  This  life  is  of  no  account  in  comparison  with  the 
life  to  come;  Take  no  thought  what  you  shall  eat  or  drink; 
Cast  yourself  wholly  upon  God,  if  you  will  serve  him.  Just 
as  these  ideas  appealed  to  the  first  Christian  ascetics,  or  to 
the  followers  of  Peter  Waldus  or  Ignatius  Loyola,  so  they 
appealed  to  many  Mohammedans.  From  such  beginnings 
arose,  the  Sufi  community,  which  eventually  built  its 
monasteries  and  formulated  its  monastic  rules,  after  the 
manner  of  its  Christian  predecessors. 

It  is  true  that  Mohammed  had  looked  with  little  favor  on 
the  monkish  scheme  of  things,  and  did  not  wish  to  see  his 
followers  live  celibate  or  conspicuously  ascetic  lives.  But 
the  Koran  abounds  in  exhortations  to  despise  the  present 
world  with  its  pride  and  luxury,  and  the  Sufi  had  the  best 
of  authority  for  his  tenets.  The  strict  devotees  not  only 
shunned  the  temptations  of  wealth  and  comfort,  but  also 


i6o         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

gave  up  their  trades  and  professions.  How  could  a  man 
really  trust  in  God  who  relied  on  his  day's  wages?  More 
and  more  they  gave  themselves  over  to  religious  contem- 
plation. The  Koran,  as  we  have  seen,  gives  little  atten- 
tion to  cultivating  a  state  of  mind,  but  this  they  made  their 
chief  concern.  In  the  matter  of  religious  exercises  also  the 
Sufis  had  a  real  contribution  to  make.  The  worship  as 
they  found  it  was  primarily  a  prescribed  duty  rather  than 
the  satisfaction  of  a  need.  Of  its  spontaneous  side,  as  a 
means  of  coming  personally  near  to  God,  Mohammed  had 
had  very  little  to  say;  though,  as  we  have  seen,  something 
of  the  sort  was  present  in  Islam  from  the  first.  Here,  then, 
the  mystics  had  their  opportunity.  They  made  it  their  busi- 
ness to  devise  exercises  designed  to  kindle  a  true  religious 
fervor,  putting  into  them  all  the  oriental  warmth  which  the 
matter-of-fact  Mekkan  had  left  out;  working  themselves  up 
to  the  desired  pitch  by  various  means,  such  as  long  continued 
and  intense  contemplation,  the  reiteration  of  certain  chanted 
formulae,  and  especially  dwelling  on  the  ideas  of  self-renun- 
ciation and  complete  devotion.  Where  the  Koran  and  the 
customary  Muslim  formulae  mention  the  fear  of  God,  the 
Sufi  speaks  of  the  love  of  God,  and  his  usual  designation 
of  the  divine  being  is  "  The  Beloved."  In  the  early  period, 
music  as  a  means  of  inducing  religious  emotion  was  looked 
upon  with  a  disfavor  amounting  to  horror,  for  the  line  be- 
tween religious  ecstasy  and  an  unholy  excitement  of  the  senses 
was  seen  to  be  often  a  vanishing  one,  and  the  latter  re- 
sult was  more  to  be  depended  on  than  the  former.  So  for 
a  time  the  performer  on  the  lute  and  the  singer  of  songs 
were  branded  as  impious  by  the  stricter  Mohammedans,  and 
we  frequently  hear  of  a  convert  "  repenting  of  music  "  as  he 
might  repent  of  perjury  or  highway  robbery.  At  a  later 
day  this  rigidity  was  relaxed,  however,  and  the  Sufis  made 
regular  use  of  music  in  their  exercises.  As  for  the  language 
needed  to  express  the  mystic's  passionate  devotion,  it  could 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  161 

only  be  taken  from  the  language  of  worldly  passion,  whence 
it  comes  about  that  some  of  the  characteristic  Sufi  literature 
has  a  decidedly  erotic  sound. 

As  far  as  Muslim  doctrine  is  concerned,  the  Sufis  at  first 
exercised  no  considerable  influence,  except  negatively. 
Their  chief  aims  and  interests  were  not  intellectual,  but  emo- 
tional. Religion  was  for  them  an  experience,  and  systems 
of  belief  were  of  minor  consequence.  The  goal  which  they 
set  before  them  was  complete  devotion  to  God  and  ultimately 
complete  union  with  him.  This  they  sought  to  reach  through 
a  more  or  less  definitely  prescribed  mode  of  life  termed  "  the 
way,"  in  which  repentance,  abstinence,  self-renunciation,  con- 
stancy in  religious  exercises,  and  patient  trust  in  "  The  Be- 
loved "  were  the  principal  stages.  Seclusion,  abject  poverty, 
and  long  fasting  were  practiced  by  the  most  zealous.  As 
might  be  expected,  the  rigidly  consistent  devotees  pronounced 
flatly  against  calling  in  physicians,  or  employing  medicine, 
in  case  of  illness.  "  The  power  of  God,"  they  said,  "  is  the 
only  thing  that  can  heal.  What  the  patient  needs  to  do 
is  to  bring  his  soul  into  the  true  harmony ;  then  he  will  find 
that  he  is  healed."  One  of  the  leaders  of  the  new  school 
is  quoted  as  giving  the  following  advice  to  a  sick  man  of  his 
acquaintance:  "  Put  under  your  pillow  my  book  "  (a  proto- 
type of  "  Science  and  Health  "),  "  and  trust  in  God."  Of 
course  the  extreme  views  regarding  poverty  and  illness  were 
opposed  by  the  adherents  of  the  traditional  orthodoxy,  for  the 
simple  reason  that  Mohammed  and  Ali  and  the  primitive 
saints  and  heroes  were  men  whose  life  and  habits  were  well 
known.  They  had  held  property,  labored  like  other  men, 
and  taken  medicine  when  they  were  ill.  The  Tradition  was 
quite  clear  on  these  points.  But  the  Sufi  teaching,  enforced' 
by  the  holy  life  of  its  exponents,  made  a  strong  impression, 
and  the  controversy  was  quite  lively  in  the  tenth  century  of 
our  era. 

A  chief  source  of   recruits  to  the   mystics  was  reaction 


1 62         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

against  the  prevailing  tendencies  in  Islam.     As  at  first  the 
groups  of  ascetics  had  arisen   in  protest  against  the  wide- 
spread impiety,  so  a  little  later,  and  thenceforward,  the  fol- 
lowers   of    "  the    way "    received    large    and    constant    re- 
enforcement    because    of    the    spread    of     rationalism    and 
skepticism  among  the  more  learned  Muslims  and  their  pupils. 
To  unbelief  the  Sufis  opposed  intuitive  knowledge  assured 
by   experience,   and   to   those  who  would   demonstrate   that 
the  traditional  dogmas  of  Islam  were  outgrown  they  showed 
a  faith  and  zeal  that  were  positively  burning.     As  has  been 
the  case  in  other  religions,   this  type  of  faith  gained  more 
and  more  the  sympathy  and  participation  of  the  multitude. 
The  reaction  against  an  exaggerated  scholasticism  also  played 
its   important    part.     The    Mohammedan    doctors   were    as 
great    adepts    at    hair-splitting    as    their    Christian    contem- 
poraries,    and    the    systems    of    doctrine    evolved    by    the 
numerous  rival  schools,  while  worthy  of  admiration  as  intel- 
lectual achievements,  left  the  mystics  cold  and  the  common 
people  far  behind.     There  were  long  and  bitter  controver- 
sies over  definitions  and  various  shibboleths,  while  prosecu- 
tions for  heresy  were  frequent.     The  Allah  of  the  orthodox 
theologians  was  a  deity  who  might  satisfy  a  philosophical 
system,   but  could  satisfy  nothing  else.     Between  him   and 
human   beings   there   could   be  no  communion   of   any  sort. 
The  philosophy  and  natural  science  of  the  Greeks,  becom- 
ing accessible  through  Arabic  translations  made  from  Syriac 
versions  of  Greek  treatises,  exerted  a  profound  influence  and 
added    to    the    complication.     The    task    of    harmonizing 
Plotinus  and  his  fellows  with  the  Koran  was  one  that  might 
well  have  given  pause  to  Gabriel  himself,  but  the  Muslim 
scholars  undertook  it  with  joy   and   no  misgivings.     Those 
earnest  Mohammedans  who  wished  not  only  to  be  orthodox 
but  also  to  have  a  religion  that  meant  something  to  them 
felt  that  they  were  getting  more  stones  than  bread.     One  of 
them,  after  reading  a  certain  neo-theological  pamphlet,  ex- 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  163 

pressed  himself  as  follows;  and  his  words,  which  have  a 
very  modern  sound,  doubtless  voiced  the  feelings  of  a  great 
many:  "These  men  fill  their  writings  with  religious 
phrases,  and  with  incidental  bits  of  the  divine  book.  They 
also  put  in  any  number  of  words  which  may  mean  two  or 
more  different  things.  As  for  the  material  contents,  they 
are  made  up  from  every  known  science,  but  they  do  not  satisfy 
the  reader's  hunger,  nor  show  him  the  way  to  what  he  needs 
to  know."  As  the  reaction  against  a  similar  over-developed 
scholasticism  in  the  Christian  church  brought  forward  Eck- 
hart,  Tauler,  and  their  fellow  mystics,  so  in  mediaeval  Islam 
one  effect  of  the  exaggerated  emphasis  on  doctrinal  formulae 
was  greatly  to  swell  the  ranks  of  the  Sufis.  Also,  as  in  the 
history  of  Christianity  the  ascetics  and  mystics  and  their 
adherents  generally  occupied  a  dominating  place,  so  in  the 
history  of  Mohammedanism  the  Sufis  —  using  the  term  in 
the  broad  sense  —  soon  came  to  be  a  most  influential  body. 
As  has  already  been  said,  Sufism  is  not  a  system  of  philosophy, 
nor  has  it  a  creed.  It  is  a  way  of  life,  and  a  practical 
theology;  rooting  originally  in  Islam,  but  so  independent  of 
either  tradition  or  reason  that  it  could  not  be  held  within 
the  strict  limits  of  any  one  faith.  As  a  rule,  Sufis  have  pre- 
ferred to  regard  themselves  as  orthodox  Mohammedans,  and 
a  large  proportion  of  them  could  make  this  claim  with  some 
good  reason.  They  have  their  own  characteristic  exegesis 
of  the  Koran,  interpreting  it  allegorically  in  much  the  same 
way  as  the  Bible  has  been  interpreted  from  time  to  time 
by  Jewish  and  Christian  scholars.  Sufis  of  every  type  ob- 
serve the  formal  requirements  of  the  Muslim  faith,  though 
generally  without  acknowledging  to  them  any  especial  value. 
Here,  again,  they  have  their  own  allegorical  interpretation, 
and  regard  the  state  of  mind  of  the  participant  and  his  ap- 
preciation of  the  spiritual  meaning  of  the  ceremonies  as  the 
only  thing  of  importance.  The  nearer  the  follower  of  "  the 
way  "  approaches  to  his  divine  goal,  the  less  it  matters  what 


1 64         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

religion  he  formally  professes.  To  the  saint,  no  one  re- 
ligion can  contribute  more  than  any  other,  he  is  superior  to 
them  all;  to  the  novice,  each  and  every  religion  can  be  use- 
ful. So  some  of  the  most  enlightened  of  their  spokesmen 
have  said.  Between  Sufis  and  Christians  of  the  ascetic  and 
quietistic  type  there  was  always  strong  affinity.  The  Sufi 
literature  contains  many  apocryphal  sayings  of  Jesus,  as  well 
as  correct  citations  from  the  Gospels,  and  many  anecdotes 
concerning  Jesus  or  John  the  Baptist  (especially  revered  be- 
cause of  his  ascetic  mode  of  life).  What  is  more  important, 
the  modes  of  thought  developed  through  centuries  of  Christian 
mysticism  were  taken  over  liberally  by  these  like-minded 
Mohammedans.  It  was  also  through  Christian  hands  that 
they  received  the  Neo-Platonic  philosophy  which  was  ap- 
propriated and  adapted  by  certain  schools.  Greek  mystical 
ideas  had  been  familiar  in  the  East  for  a  long  time,  and 
their  value  was  recognized  by  Sufis  of  the  more  speculative, 
philosophical  type  which  soon  arose.  In  like  manner  other 
forms  of  oriental  philosophy  and  theosophy  were  laid  under 
contribution.  The  fundamental  ideas  of  all  these  various 
types  of  the  later  Suflsm  are  practically  the  same,  and  mark 
a  considerable  advance  over  the  simply  ascetic  and  devotional 
type  with  which  the  whole  great  movement  in  Islam  began. 
The  essentials  of  Sufi  doctrine  in  its  most  characteristically 
developed  form  may  be  summed  up  as  follows.  God  is  the 
one  absolute  reality.  He  is  everywhere  present,  pervades  all 
things.  The  universe  is  the  external,  visible  expression  of 
him.  His  best  and  highest  manifestation  is  in  man,  whose 
higher  nature  is  a  direct  emanation  from  the  divine.  The 
human  mind  is  a  bit  of  the  universal  Reason.  In  like 
manner  human  love  is  a  divine  gift,  the  smaller  fire  kindled 
from  the  greater.  Man's  knowledge  of  God  is  an  illumina- 
tion from  above.  He  sees  and  knows  Him  with  increasing 
distinctness  and  certainty  as  he  perseveres  in  the  faith ;  not 
through  any  mental  development  of  his  own  or  by  means  of 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  165 

any  variety  of  human  wisdom,  but  because  his  mind  becom- 
ing increasingly  purified  can  receive  more  and  more  of  the 
light  which  God  wills  to  give  to  his  elect  in  varying 
measure.  This  purification  also  is  the  work  of  God,  but 
man  has  his  important  part  in  it.  He  must  repent  of  his 
sins,  cast  them  off,  and  resolutely  turn  his  back  on  them, 
trusting  in  God  to  keep  him  firm.  He  must  mortify  his 
evil  self,  with  its  pride  and  its  passions,  in  every  possible 
way,  surrender  his  will  to  God,  and  avoid  evil  thoughts  by 
keeping  his  mind  constantly  fixed  on  divine  things.  Every 
impurity  is  a  barrier  to  the  light,  and  to  be  thus  "  veiled  " 
from  God  is  the  severest  of  afflictions. 

Side  by  side  with  the  divine  illumination  stands  the  love 
of  God.  Some  Sufi  writers  have  claimed  that  Islam,  more 
than  other  religions,  is  the  religion  of  love  —  a  claim  which 
it  is  quite  safe  to  say  would  never  be  suggested  to  any  one 
by  the  Koran,  nor  by  the  orthodox  Mohammedan  teach- 
ing. Love,  like  knowledge,  is  bestowed  by  divine  grace. 
God's  love  precedes;  those  whom  he  has  chosen  find  it 
kindled  in  their  hearts,  burning  more  and  more  brightly 
as  the  way  is  cleared  for  it  by  contemplation,  prayer,  and 
intense  desire.  Every  object  of  attachment  and  wish  other 
than  God  must  be  removed  from  the  heart.  The  Sufis  of 
the  earlier  type  loved  God  as  a  transcendent  personality 
(the  true  Mohammedan  doctrine),  and  in  following  this 
idea  to  its  ultimate  consequences  found  it  easy  to  put  aside 
all  human  affections.  But  those  of  the  later  type,  conceiv- 
ing God  as  an  immanent  spirit,  practiced  a  sympathy  and  af- 
fection extending  not  only  to  human  beings  but  also  to  all 
other  living  creatures.  The  story  of  the  saint  who  traveled 
several  hundred  miles  in  order  to  carry  back  a  few  ants 
to  their  home  from  which  he  had  unwittingly  transported 
them  is  an  extreme  instance.  One  of  the  early  Persian 
teachers  of  this  school,  quoted  in  Nicholson's  Mystics  of 
Islam,  p.   in,  says  that  "when  God  loves  a  man  he  en- 


1 66         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

dows  him  with  three  qualities  in  token  thereof:  a  bounty 
like  that  of  the  sea,  a  sympathy  like  that  of  the  sun,  and  a 
humility  like  that  of  the  earth." 

It  is  when  in  the  condition  of  an  ecstatic  trance  that  the 
human  soul  can  have  unhindered  communion  with  the  divine. 
The  more  completely  the  devotee  can  lose  himself,  the  more 
completely  he  can  see  and  know  his  Beloved  and  feel  at 
one  with  him.  The  state  of  ecstasy  is  accordingly  char- 
acteristic of  those  who  are  far  advanced  in  "  the  way."  It 
comes  upon  a  man  when  God  wills,  nevertheless  the  man 
can  in  various  ways  help  to  bring  about  the  experience. 
When  he  has  prepared  himself,  by  removing  every  obstacle 
and  raising  his  own  susceptibility  to  its  highest  degree,  he 
can  only  wait  to  see  whether  it  is  the  divine  purpose  to  in- 
spire and  possess  him,  or  not.  Intense  concentration  of  the 
mind,  and  absorption  in  prayer,  were  the  all-important  aids 
to  reaching  the  ecstatic  condition.  Many  also  sought  the 
help  of  music,  singing,  and  dancing.  The  novice  would  often 
find  it  necessary  to  beat  or  otherwise  torture  himself  in  order 
to  keep  his  attention  from  wavering.  The  saint  has  no 
longer  need  of  such  discipline,  but  has  reached  the  point 
where  zikr  (dwelling  upon  the  thought  of  God)  and  con- 
templation are  second  nature.  The  divine  attributes  are  re- 
vealed in  their  true  meaning  to  the  chosen  worshipper,  and 
it  is  upon  these  that  his  contemplation  is  concentrated. 
All  other  thoughts  and  feelings,  all  objects  of  knowledge, 
desire,  or  will,  are  banished,  until  only  the  consciousness  of 
God  remains  in  the  mind.  The  state  of  ecstasy  means  to 
him  who  attains  it  not  only  divine  illumination  but  also  divine 
love.  In  it  the  worshipper  himself  is  effaced,  the  seeker 
becoming  completely  merged  in  the  Sought;  a  foretaste  of 
the  condition  which  is  to  be  unending. 

This  esoteric  doctrine  has  picturesque  illustration  in  the 
allegory  so  often  quoted  from  the  celebrated  Persian  mystic 
Jalfil  ad-Din  Rumi,  describing  the  experience  of  human  love 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  167 

seeking  admission  into  the  sanctuary  of  the  Divine.  "  One 
knocked  at  the  door  of  the  Beloved,  and  a  voice  from  within 
inquired,  'Who  is  there?'  He  answered,  'It  is  I'  But 
the  voice  said,  '  This  house  will  not  hold  me  and  thee.' 
So  the  door  remained  shut.  Then  the  lover  withdrew  into 
the  wilderness,  and  fasted  and  prayed  in  solitude.  After 
a  year  he  returned,  and  knocked  again  at  the  door.  Again 
the  voice  demanded,  'Who  is  there?'  And  the  lover  re- 
plied, 'It  is  Thou!'     Then  the  door  was  opened." 

The  whole  long  process  through  which  the  Sufi  mystic 
seeks  to  attain  his  end  may  be  summed  up  in  one  phrase, 
the  extinction  of  self.  The  meaning  of  this  to  the  individual 
differs  according  to  the  stage  which  he  has  reached.  At 
first,  it  is  the  elimination  of  all  passions  and  desires;  later,  it 
consists  in  clearing  the  mind  of  everything  that  is  not  God; 
ultimately,  it  is  the  passing  away  of  consciousness  itself. 
Not  until  this  final  stage  of  the  process  has  been  accomplished 
can  the  devotee  reach  his  goal,  absorption  in  the  divine  All. 

This  last  feature  of  the  Sufi  scheme  sounds  distinctly 
Aryan,  and  such  indeed  it  is  in  its  origin.  The  Arabic  term 
jana,  "  passing  away,"  which  plays  such  an  important  part 
in  the  scheme,  very  closely  corresponds,  in  its  use  to  mean 
the  extinction  of  the  individual  self,  to  the  Buddhistic 
nirvana.  As  Nicholson  especially  has  made  clear,  however, 
the  agreement  with  Buddhism  is  only  partial,  inasmuch  as 
nirvana  is  merely  negative,  while  the  jana  of  the  Sufis, 
meaning  the  "  passing  away  "  of  the  phenomenal  existence, 
involves  baga,  "  continuance,"  of  the  real  existence.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  Sufi  conception  of  absorption  of  the  in- 
dividual self  in  Universal  Being  seems  to  have  been  derived 
from  Indian  pantheism.  It  is  indeed  evident  that  the  most 
characteristic  development  of  Sufism  was  strongly  influenced 
by  Indo-Persian  religious  ideas.  It  was  in  Persian  thought 
especially  that  it  was  elaborated,  and  even  more  than  else- 
where it  flourished  on  Persian  soil.     But  the  claim,  often 


1 68         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

made,  that  the  Aryan  mind  produced  Suflsm,  is  far  from 
the  truth,  as  the  preceding  sketch  of  the  rise  and  growth 
of  Mohammedan  mysticism  may  suffice  to  show.  One  of  the 
most  fervid  and  eloquent  of  all  the  mystic  poets  of  Islam, 
Omar  ibn  al-Farid,  born  in  Cairo  in  the  year  1181,  was 
of  pure  Arab  stock.  Springing  up  in  Islam,  and  striking 
its  roots  deep  in  the  soil  of  many  lands  before  any  strong 
influence  from  Persia  was  felt,  Suflsm  was  as  hospitable  at 
the  outset  to  Christian  and  Greek  mystical  and  philosophical 
ideas  as  it  was  later  to  certain  features  of  Buddhism  and 
the  Vedanta.  The  drift  into  pantheism  or  monism  was  in- 
evitable in  any  case. 

The  distinctive  doctrines  of  Islam  were  of  course  brushed 
aside,  or  re-interpreted,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent.  The 
Sufi  conception  of  the  "  unity  "  of  Allah  is  far  removed 
from  that  of  the  Mohammedan  theologians.  As  for  the 
Prophet  and  the  Sacred  Book,  the  thoroughgoing  mystic  can 
ultimately  dispense  with  them,  since  he  is  vouchsafed  a  reve- 
lation of  his  own  which  will  suffice  for  him.  To  the  more 
extreme  Sufis  the  teaching  of  the  Koran  amounts  to 
polytheism.  The  contrast  between  evil  and  good,  right  and 
wrong,  means  less  and  less  to  the  true  devotee,  as  he  ad- 
vances toward  perfection.  The  idea  of  the  rewards  and 
punishments  of  the  future  life  contains  nothing  for  him.  "  I 
do  not  say,"  says  a  famous  Sufi  teacher,  "  that  Paradise 
and  Hell  are  non-existent,  but  I  say  that  they  are  nothing 
to  me,  because  God  created  them  both,  and  there  is  no 
room  for  any  created  object  in  the  place  where  I  am " 
(Nicholson,  Mystics,  p.  87). 

Nevertheless,  this  is  all  properly  called  "  Mohammedan  " 
mysticism.  Sufi  authorities  of  every  school  recognize  Islam 
as  their  home,  however  far  they  may  seem  to  us  to  have 
strayed  from  it.  More  than  this,  the  endeavor  on  both  sides 
to  make  the  most  of  the  common  ground  between  the  Sufi 
and   the  traditionally   orthodox   Muslim   has  been   constant 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  169 

and  fruitful.  One  of  the  greatest  of  all  Mohammedan 
theologians,  Ghazali,  was  a  Sufi  as  well  as  a  philosopher, 
and  he  made  it  his  aim  to  put  new  life  into  Mohammedan 
doctrine,  especially  by  dealing  more  adequately  than  others 
had  dealt  with  the  religion  of  experience.  Ever  since  his  day 
the  mystical  interpretation  of  Islam  has  held  its  prominent 
place  in  the  orthodox  faith. 

Ill 

The  "  saint  "  was  as  important  a  figure  in  Islam,  after 
the  first  century  or  two,  as  in  the  contemporary  Christian 
community.  On  the  basis  of  the  Koran,  the  saint  might 
be  defined  as  one  who  prays  diligently,  supports  the  cause 
of  Allah  with  his  property  and  his  life,  does  his  duty  to  his 
family,  helps  the  poor,  and  pays  his  bills  promptly.  These 
characteristics  were  very  soon  reenforced,  and  then  sup- 
planted, by  those  of  religious  devotion  and  the  ascetic  mode 
of  life.  It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  the  conception 
of  sainthood  which  was  developed  among  the  Sufis  became 
at  length  the  dominating  one.  Not  all  followers  of  the 
li  way  "  were  on  the  same  footing.  Some  had  been  elected, 
by  divine  grace,  as  the  recipients  of  special  favor.  The  fact 
of  the  election  was  ordinarily  made  known  to  the  com- 
munity by  the  mode  of  life  and  the  marvelous  powers  of 
the  person  thus  distinguished ;  in  some  cases,  however,  it  re- 
mained hidden  even  from  himself.  Those  recognized  as 
saints  were  commonly  described  as  "  possessed  "  by  God,  or 
as  "  near  to  "  God  (whence  the  designation  wall,  often 
written  wely).  It  was  their  peculiar  privilege  to  have  from 
time  to  time  the  revelation  of  things  hidden  from  ordinary 
human  beings,  the  veil  being  lifted  for  them  while  they  con- 
tinued in  the  condition  of  a  trance.  This  conception  of 
the  saint  was  common  to  all  the  Mohammedan  or  quasi- 
Mohammedan  sects. 

As  time  went  on,  both  the  popular  idea  and  the  recognized 


170         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

formal  doctrine  of  the  powers  of  the  wait  became  more  ex- 
travagant. They  were  believed  to  have  the  gift  of  second 
sight  not  only  when  in  the  trance  condition,  but  at  all  times. 
The  miracles  which  they  were  permitted  to  perform  in- 
cluded every  imaginable  wonder,  and  the  voluminous  legends 
of  the  Muslim  saints  swarm  with  accounts  of  mind-read- 
ing, telepathy,  hypnotism,  faith-heailng,  levitation,  and  the 
like,  as  well  as  far  more  marvelous  things.  Many  of  these 
accounts  are  not  without  value  to  the  modern  investigator, 
as  they  can  be  controlled  to  some  extent  by  more  recent 
parallels.  From  the  descriptions  of  trances  and  visions  little 
can  be  learned  with  certainty,  at  least  at  present,  and  it 
wTould  be  fruitless  to  spend  time  on  them  here,  highly  in- 
teresting though  they  sometimes  are. 

To  what  extent  the  saint  was  subject  to  the  moral  law, 
was  always  a  matter  of  some  controversy.  It  is  easy  to 
believe  that  the  favorite  of  God,  gifted  with  divine  insight, 
can  do  no  wrong;  and  history  shows  that  every  doctrine 
of  the  divinely  chosen  and  inspired  few  has  had  its  by-product 
of  antinomianism.  Thus  it  was  with  the  Christian 
11  Brethren  and  Sisters  of  the  Free  Spirit,"  in  the  thirteenth 
century  a.  d.,  and  so  it  has  been  with  many  others  since. 
The  record  of  Muslim  sainthood  furnishes  no  exception  in 
this  regard.  Walls,  imams,  and  their  like  were  generally 
believed  to  be  preserved  from  error,  and  not  subject  to  criti- 
cism when  they  did  what  wTould  be  unlawful  for  the  ordinary 
mortal.  But  might  not  the  fact  of  a  flagrant  offence  against 
the  standards  of  morality  or  decency  show  that  the  trans- 
gressor was  not  a  saint,  after  all?  There  are  on  record 
cases  where  the  decision  of  some  revered  authority,  or  of 
the  Muslim  community,  declared  the  sinning  superman  un- 
worthy of  his  halo.  An  example  interesting  because  of  its 
historical  importance  is  the  story  of  the  difference  of  opinion 
which  split  the  Shi'a  sect  in  two,  in  the  ninth  century  A.  d. 
In  this  sect  the  spiritual  headship  was  vested  in  an  imam, 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  171 

who  embodied  for  his  generation  the  divine  Light  which 
was  handed  on  by  a  sort  of  heaven-directed  ordination,  each 
imam  nominating  his  successor.  The  sixth  imam  in  the 
series  named,  in  due  time,  his  son  Isma'il  to  succeed  him. 
All  went  well  until,  one  day,  the  holy  appointee  was  found 
in  a  state  of  exaltation  which  obviously  had  not  been  pro- 
duced by  religious  exercises.  And  this  in  Islam,  with  its 
strict  prohibition!  His  father  was  very  angry,  and  at  once 
transferred  the  nomination  from  Isma'il  to  his  brother  Musa. 
But  this  action  raised  a  great  commotion  in  the  party,  as 
might  have  been  expected.  There  were  many  who  refused 
to  accept  the  substitution  of  Musa  for  his  elder  brother. 
i(  God,"  they  insisted,  "  does  not  change  his  mind ;  the  first 
nomination  was  the  only  valid  one."  They  defended  Isma  11 
against  the  charge  of  impiety.  "  It  is  true,"  they  said, 
"  that  the  Koran  forbids  wine.  But  every  such  regulation 
has  both  an  external,  obvious  meaning  and  a  deeper,  hidden, 
spiritual  meaning.  The  fact  that  the  chosen  imam  acted 
as  he  did  merely  shows  his  greater  spirituality.  He  has 
passed  beyond  the  coarse  husk  and  has  found  the  kernel  in- 
side." So  the  sect  divided;  and  from  that  time  on  the 
"  Ismailians  "  or  "  seveners  "  were  separated  from  the  main 
body  of  "  twelvers  "  (whose  line  of  imams,  continued  through 
Musa,  ultimately  reached  the  number  twelve).  It  is  only 
fair  to  say  that  the  number  of  those  saints  who  manifested 
their  greater  spirituality  in  this  easy  way  seems  to  have  been 
comparatively  small. 

It  is  an  interesting  fact  that  among  the  celebrated  mystics 
of  Islam  are  certain  holy  women,  who  have  stood  in  the  very 
foremost  rank  of  saints.  As  in  the  case  of  the  sainted  women 
of  other  great  religions,  this  was  due  not  only  to  the  exalted 
character  and  the  actual  words  and  deeds  of  the  few  thus 
supremely  honored,  but  also  in  some  measure  to  the  position 
of  woman  in  the  popular  imagination.  It  is  natural  that  in 
this  emotional,  passionate  type  of  religion  should  have  been 


172         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

seen  possibilities  of  adoration  which  the  woman's  nature  might 
realize  more  fully  than  the  man's.  Moreover,  chivalry  is 
native  to  the  Arabs,  and  the  greatest  of  these  heroines  of  the 
Muslim  faith  were  of  Arab  stock  and  lived  in  an  Arab  en- 
vironment. At  the  very  beginning  of  the  Sufi  movement  in 
Islam  stands  a  woman  saint  to  whom  the  Muslim  doctors  of 
the  next  generation  and  thereafter  all  point,  saying  in  effect: 
"  If  you  would  see  the  true  Sufi  religion,  the  best  product  of 
Mohammedanism,  look  at  her\  "  This  was  Rabia,  poetess 
of  unusual  gifts  as  well  as  theologian,  who  flourished  in  the 
first  half  of  the  eighth  century  a.  d.,  and  whose  tomb  at 
Jerusalem  is  still  eagerly  visited  by  pilgrims.  The  claim  of 
the  Sufis,  that  she  was  one  of  their  number,  presumably  had 
its  foundation  only  in  their  wish ;  but  she  was  a  forerunner  of 
the  best  Sufism,  and  seems  to  have  shown,  more  clearly  than 
any  other  of  her  time,  the  way  which  so  many  were  trying 
to  find.  Much  that  is  said  of  her  reminds  the  reader  of  St. 
Catharine  of  Siena.  "  Do  you  see  God  when  you  adore 
him?  "  some  one  asked.  "  Certainly,"  she  replied,  "  if  I  did 
not  see  him  I  could  not  adore  him."  To  a  friend  who  wished 
for  her  a  husband  she  said:  "  I  have  long  been  married;  for 
years  past  my  existence  has  been  absorbed  in  Him."  She 
narrates  of  herself:  "  I  saw  the  Prophet  in  a  dream.  He 
said  to  me,  'Rabia,  dost  thou  love  me?'  I  answered,  'O 
Apostle  of  God,  who  does  not  love  thee?  —  but  love  of 
God  has  so  absorbed  me  that  neither  love  nor  hate  of  aught 
else  remains  in  my  heart.'  "  Among  other  oft-quoted  sayings 
are  the  following.  "O  God !  whatever  share  of  this  world 
thou  hast  allotted  to  me,  bestow  it  on  thine  enemies;  and 
whatever  share  of  the  next  world  thou  hast  allotted  to  me,  be- 
stow it  on  thy  friends.  Thou  art  enough  for  me."  "  O 
God!  if  I  worship  thee  in  fear  of  hell,  burn  me  in  hell;  and 
if  I  worship  thee  in  hope  of  heaven,  exclude  me  from  heaven; 
but  if  I  worship  thee  for  thine  own  sake,  withhold  not  thine 
everlasting  beauty!  " 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  173 

A  successor  of  Rabia,  hardly  less  noted,  was  Naffsa,  to 
whose  shrine  at  Cairo  the  pious  Muslims  flock.  Hers  was 
an  equally  warm  and  pure  type  of  religion ;  and  she  was  also 
celebrated  for  her  learning,  in  which  she  was  said  to  stand 
on  equal  footing  with  the  foremost  sages  of  the  day.  Her 
wealth,  which  was  considerable,  she  devoted  to  good  works 
of  every  sort,  while  the  poor  and  the  distressed  thronged  to 
her  for  help. 

Of  course  Mohammedan  mysticism  had  its  martyrs.  The 
Sufis  and  their  kind  generally  avoided  religious  controversy, 
as  I  have  said;  but  some  of  their  characteristic  doctrines 
passed  over  imperceptibly  into  rank  heresies  which  could 
not  easily  be  tolerated  when  once  they  were  formulated  in 
an  obnoxious  way  and  dwelt  upon.  Pantheism,  theories  of 
incarnation,  the  "  passing  away  "  of  the  individual  (which 
in  the  teaching  of  not  a  few  meant  pure  annihilation)  ;  these 
were  among  the  chief  points  of  danger.  The  extravagant 
claims  and  arrogant  attitude  of  some  of  these  "  perfected 
ones  "  would  be  likely  to  increase  any  already  existing  irri- 
tation, it  may  be  added.  It  is  probably  fruitless  to  pursue 
the  inquiry,  which  some  have  instituted,  whether  there  was 
not  a  saner  attitude  of  tolerance  toward  pantheistic  mysti- 
cism in  medieval  Islam  than  in  medieval  Christianity.  Cer- 
tainly the  champions  of  strict  orthodoxy  in  both  communi- 
ties took  their  responsibility  seriously;  and  certainly  when 
the  extreme  penalty  of  heresy  was  exacted,  by  either  Chris- 
tians or  Muslims,  it  was  generally  the  case  that  other  motives 
—  personal,  public,  and  especially  political  —  were  com- 
bined with  the  religious  motive. 

A  typical  and  noted  instance  is  that  of  the  pantheistic 
philosopher  Suhrawardi,  who  was  strangled  and  impaled  be- 
fore the  great  castle  in  Aleppo  in  January,  1192,  in  the 
thirty-eighth  year  of  his  age.  In  spite  of  his  comparative 
youth,  he  was  one  of  the  most  learned  men  of  his  time.  His 
attainments  in  natural  science,  in  particular,  had  helped  to 


174  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

give  him  the  popular  reputation  of  practicing  the  black  art. 
During  his  lifetime  he  was  revered  as  a  saint,  and  had  a 
numerous  following.  After  his  death  he  was  thought  of  by 
the  common  people  as  a  worker  of  miracles,  and  even  at  the 
present  day  there  is  a  superstitious  veneration  of  the  spot 
where  he  met  his  end.  The  execution  was  by  order  of 
Saladin's  son,  acting  under  the  advice  of  his  usually  tolerant 
father.  The  few  sayings  and  verses  which  have  been  handed 
down  from  Suhrawardi  contain  nothing  different  from  what 
we  read  in  the  writings  of  many  noted  Sufi  teachers.  Here 
is  one  of  his  maxims:  "  Set  your  thought  on  such  an  image 
of  holiness  as  can  satisfy  him  who  is  seeking  delight."  The 
following  is  from  a  poem  of  his,  addressed  to  "  the  Beloved  " : 

Our  souls  are  ever  turned  toward  Thee  with  warm  affection; 
The  hearts  of  Thy  lovers  yearn  for  Thee,  and  thirst  for  the  bliss 

of  meeting.  .  .  . 
Instead  of  the  darkness  of  Thy  displeasure  grant  us   the  light  of 

Thy  favor; 
Separation  from  Thee  is  night,  reunion  the  light  of  morning. 

The  following  verses  describe  the  ultimate  extinction 
(fand)  of  the  devotee  who  has  reached  his  goal: 

They  appeared  in  His  presence,  every  token  of  their  personal  exist- 
ence was  gone. 

When  they  saw  Him,  they  stood  revealed,  and  cried  aloud. 

He  gave  them  annihilation;  the  veils  of  existence  fell  off,  and  their 
souls  were  dissolved. 

The  great  Muslim  biographer  Ibn  Khallikan  says  that 
Suhrawardi  invited  trouble  by  his  unwise  utterances.  This 
may  well  be  true;  on  the  other  hand,  the  biographer  may 
be  somewhat  influenced  by  his  loyalty  to  the  Muslim  au- 
thorities. 

A  more  celebrated  case  is  that  of  the  Sufi  martyr  Hallaj, 
who  lived  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  Mohammedan  cen- 
tury.    He  was  a  Persian,  the  grandson  of  a  Zoroastrian;  a 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  175 

man  of  singularly  blameless  life,  but  an  apostle  of  pantheism 
of  a  dangerous  type.  He  taught  the  essential  divinity  of 
man,  and  a  doctrine  of  incarnation  sufficiently  like  the  Chris- 
tian doctrine  to  be  branded  as  one  of  the  worst  heresies. 
"  Cultivate  the  spiritual  life,  let  the  divine  power  drive  out 
from  you  the  evil  human  nature,  until  the  way  is  prepared 
for  your  true  self.  Then  you  may  be  filled  with  the  Divine 
Spirit  and  become  a  new  personality,  a  God-man.  Who 
thereafter  sees  you,  sees  God ;  whatever  acts  you  perform  are 
divine  acts."  He  was  revered  by  his  disciples  as  a  saint, 
and  more  than  a  saint.  They  believed  that  he  not  only 
wrought  miracles  but  had  raised  a  dead  man  to  life.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  pillars  of  the  Muslim  faith  opposed  him 
as  a  dangerous  man  and  a  blasphemer.  Most  intolerable  of 
all  was  the  famous  saying  quoted  against  him,  but  by  many 
praised  as  a  noble  utterance,  "  I  am  the  Truth,"  that  is,  the 
Ultimate  Verity,  the  phrase  therefore  meaning  exactly,  "  I 
am  God." 

Hallaj  was  arrested,  and  put  on  trial  at  Bagdad.  Against 
him  were  arrayed  his  written  and  spoken  words,  but,  as 
usual,  unequivocal  evidence  was  hard  to  find.  Asked  di- 
rectly what  he  said  of  himself,  he  replied:  "  I  am  neither 
divinity,  nor  prophet;  I  am  a  man,  who  adores  the  One 
God."  He  would  not,  however,  retract  his  saying,  "  A'na 
'l-Haqq"  I  am  the  Truth.  The  few  disciples  who  stood 
by  him  asserted  stoutly  that  he  was  divine,  and  that  he 
had  raised  the  dead.  The  judge,  like  a  second  Pontius 
Pilate,  refused  at  first  to  convict;  but  under  pressure  from 
the  grand  vizir,  backed  by  some  of  the  foremost  Muslim 
doctors,  he  at  last  yielded,  and  the  death  sentence  was  pro- 
nounced. Hallaj  protested,  to  the  last:  "  I  am  a  Muslim. 
I  believe  the  Tradition;  I  have  always  recognized  the  au- 
thority of  the  imams,  and  that  of  the  first  four  caliphs. 
You  have  no  right  to  shed  my  blood!  "  The  sentence  passed 
upon  him  was  this:  he  was  to  be  beaten  with  a  thousand 


176         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

stripes.  If  he  then  still  lived,  a  hand  was  to  be  cut  off, 
then  a  foot ;  then  the  other  hand,  then  the  other  foot. 
Finally  he  was  to  be  beheaded,  and  his  body  burned  to 
ashes.  The  sentence  was  executed,  and  Hallaj  met  his 
death  with  fortitude.  His  ashes  were  thrown  into  the  Tigris 
river.  Nevertheless  his  disciples  refused  to  believe  that  he 
was  dead.  First  one,  and  then  another,  professed  to  have 
seen  him  alive  some  days  after.  There  were  several  who 
told  how  they  had  met  him  on  the  road  leading  to  Nahrawan, 
and  had  heard  him  speak.     This  was  in  922  a.  d. 

A  most  important,  factor  in  the  development  of  the  later 
Mohammedan  mysticism,  down  to  the  present  day,  has  been 
the  influence  of  The  Dervish  Orders.  The  "  dervish  "  is 
the  Mohammedan  counterpart  of  the  begging  friar  of  medie- 
val Europe.  He  stands  on  a  somewhat  lower  plane  than  the 
typical  Sufi,  since  he  does  not,  like  the  latter,  give  himself 
over  absolutely  to  contemplation  in  the  endeavor  to  eliminate 
the  last  vestige  of  self.  The  organization  of  these  Sufi 
"  schools  of  the  prophets  "  proceeded  naturally,  from  small 
beginnings,  the  nucleus  in  each  case  being  some  renowned 
teacher  and  the  small  circle  of  his  pupils.  In  order  to  make 
the  fellowship  more  significant  and  more  permanent,  and  to 
give  it  a  definite  stamp,  as  the  circle  increased,  rules  of  con- 
duct and  procedure  were  adopted ;  both  the  general  rules  of  an 
ascetic  and  religious  life,  and  also  whatever  special  dis- 
tinguishing regulations  or  practices  their  spiritual  head,  or 
their  own  custom,  had  prescribed.  After  the  death  of  the 
teacher,  he  was  revered  as  the  founder  and  patron  saint  of 
the  fraternity,  and  his  spirit  was  held  to  be  still  present  to 
impart  instruction.  The  first  of  these  fraternities  were 
founded  in  the  twelfth  century  A.  d. 

Hughes,  Notes  on  M  uhammadamsm ,  gives  the  following 
as  the  usual  method  of  admission  to  a  certain  order  of  der- 
vishes. After  the  prescribed  ablutions,  the  disciple  seats  him- 
self  before  his   spiritual   guide    (murshid) .     The    Murshid 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  177 

takes  the  disciple's  right  hand,  and  causes  him  to  repeat  sev- 
eral times  the  following  confession:  "I  ask  forgiveness  of 
the  great  God,  than  whom  there  is  no  other  deity,  the  Eter- 
nal, the  Everlasting,  the  Living  One.  I  turn  to  Him  in 
repentance,  and  beg  His  grace  and  forgiveness."  Then  the 
disciple  repeats  after  the  Murshid:  "  I  beg  for  the  favor  of 
God  and  of  the  Prophet;  and  I  take  for  my  guide  to  God 
(here  the  Murshid  is  named),  not  to  change  or  to  separate. 
God  is  our  witness.  By  the  great  God;  there  is  no  deity 
but  God!  Amen."  The  two  then  recite  the  prayer  which 
forms  the  first  chapter  of  the  Koran,  and  the  disciple  con- 
cludes the  ceremony  by  kissing  the  Murshid's  hand.  After- 
ward there  is  a  regular  system  of  instruction,  with  daily  ex- 
ercises. The  disciple  must  visit  his  spiritual  guide  fre- 
quently. 

The  Mohammedan  saint,  as  already  noted,  is  one  who 
is  possessed  by  the  Divine  Spirit.  The  dervish  fraternities, 
which  are  training-schools  of  saints,  aim  to  foster  this  "  pos- 
session." The  ecstatic  trance-like  condition,  in  which  the 
worshipper  loses  himself  completely  and  is  carried  away  by 
the  divine  power  which  seizes  him,  is  the  thing  especially 
sought,  without  much  preference  as  to  the  means  of  arriving 
at  the  experience.  Hence  the  general  exaggeration,  and 
cheapening,  of  the  typical  Sufi  practices  and  methods;  and 
those  extravagant  and  grotesque  performances  with  which  the 
western  world  is  more  or  less  familiar.  As  the  contem- 
porary of  Paul  "  spoke  with  tongues,"  or  as  the  negro  in 
his  camp-meeting  "  gets  religion  "  with  the  help  of  shouting 
and  singing  and  rhythmic  motions  more  or  less  violent,  so 
the  dervish  in  Constantinople  or  Cairo,  after  getting  as  near 
to  the  divine  as  he  can  by  means  of  more  self-contained  ex- 
ercises, passes  on  into  devotional  esctasy  through  the  excite- 
ment induced  by  the  beating  of  drums  and  thrumming  of 
lutes,  by  wild  chanting  and  wailing  (''howling"),  or  by 
whirling  about  in  one  direction  until  the  human  and  the 


178         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

divine  are  completely  merged  in  a  sort  of  religious  vertigo. 
There  is  also  characteristic  exaggeration  in  such  matters  as 
the  worship  of  saints  and  the  importance  assigned  to  the 
working  of  miracles.  In  doctrine  as  in  customs  these  fra- 
ternities have  been  free  to  go  their  own  way,  always  main- 
taining their  loyalty  to  Islam.  It  is  not  surprising  that  a 
few  of  the  orders,  the  so-called  "  lawless  dervishes,"  have 
gained  an  undesirable  reputation  for  laxity  in  morals,  de- 
fended by  them  on  the  ground  of  superiority  to  the  regula- 
tions binding  on  the  ordinary  sinner. 

The  great  service  performed  by  the  Dervish  Orders,  how- 
ever, lies  in  this,  that  they  have  been  the  means  of  infusing 
the  devotional,  mystical  element  into  the  whole  fabric  of  Mo- 
hammedan religious  practice.  The  Sufi  saints  and  doctors, 
with  their  lofty  philosophy  and  esoteric  wisdom,  were  better 
able  to  awe  the  public  than  to  show  it  how  to  worship. 
Such  knowledge  was  too  wonderful  for  the  common  people, 
they  could  not  attain  unto  it.  But  what  these  unapproach- 
able ones  could  not  do  was  done  by  the  humbler  groups.  In 
addition  to  regular  members  the  most  of  these  fraternities 
have  lay  members;. and  this  form  of  association  has  been  so 
generally  welcomed  that  at  the  present  day  the  typical  Mus- 
lim, in  every  Mohammedan  land,  is  connected  with  one  or 
another  of  the  orders. 

Simple  forms  of  the  dervish  dhikr  (generally  pronounced 
zikr)  constitute  the  ordinary  devotional  service  —  supple- 
menting the  prescribed  formal  worship  —  in  the  Moham- 
medan community.  The  typical  dervish  exercise  of  this  nature 
has  often  been  described  in  detail,  and  the  description  need  not 
be  repeated  here.  Among  the  usual  features  are  the  reciting 
of  sentences  from  the  Koran,  and  of  formulas  whose  mean- 
ing is  that  God  is  present;  the  use  of  instruments  of  music 
or  percussion;  and  a  regular  system  of  postures  and  ejacula- 
tions. Sometimes  a  rosary  of  ninety-nine  beads,  correspond- 
ing to  the  ninety-nine  Names  of  God,   is  employed.     The 


MYSTICISM  IN  ISLAM  179 

writer  has  been  much  impressed  with  the  manifestly  devo- 
tional spirit  in  such  a  Muslim  "  prayer-meeting."  In  ob- 
serving how  men  and  youths,  average  citizens  of  the  small 
town,  known  as  workmen  and  tradesmen  of  no  apparent 
religious  turn  or  especially  emotional  nature,  joined  with 
interest  and  fervor  in  the  exercises  of  the  evening;  rising  ex- 
citement showing  in  their  eyes  as  the  drum  sounded,  solemn 
formulae  were  chanted,  and  the  members  of  the  little  con- 
gregation rocked  their  bodies  to  and  fro;  the  guest  from  the 
western  world  felt  that  all  this  had  much  in  common  with 
what  he  had  seen  in  his  own  land.  Such  gatherings  and 
exercises  represent  an  earnest  and  sober  attempt  to  realize 
the  true  meaning  of  zikr  (dwelling  on  the  thought  of 
God),  in  fulfilment  of  a  conscious  need.  "  God  is  here  "  is 
the  leading  idea  in  all  these  voluntary  religious  meetings  of 
devout  Muslims,  whatever  the  form  of  their  exercises,  and 
however  variously,  the  idea  of  the  divine  presence  may  be 
conceived.  By  one  the  phrase  may  be  interpreted  in  the  direc- 
tion of  pantheism,  reminding  of  the  Koran  passage  (2:  109), 
"  Whichever  way  ye  turn,  there  is  God's  face."  To  an- 
other the  words  and  the  experience  may  rather  call  to  mind 
the  assurance  of  Allah's  personal  presence  (58:8),  ''There 
is  no  conference  of  three  in  which  He  is  not  the  fourth,  nor 
of  five  in  which  He  is  not  the  sixth.  Be  the  number  less  or 
more,  He  is  with  them."  Doubtless  each  one  of  the  par- 
ticipants would  testify  that  the  zikr  meant  more  to  him  than 
any  other  single  expression  of  his  Islam.  Certain  it  is  that 
this  widespread  Mohammedan  religious  exercise  has  in  it 
the  seed  of  new  life.  Such  collective  mysticism  has  often 
brought  about  extensive  religious  reform  where  dogma  and 
tradition  have  lost  their  primitive  hold,  and  the  history  of 
other  movements  may  be  repeated  here.  It  is  a  factor  that 
can  never  be  left  out  of  account  by  those  who  are  looking 
with  some  hope  for  a  day  when  the  old  Islam,  which  the 
world  has  known  too  long,  may  grow  into  something  better. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE 

Charles  Allen  Dinsmore 

In  this  paper  I  shall  not  attempt  to  set  forth  the  many  in- 
stances in  Dante's  various  writings  where  he  uses  the  imagery 
and  language  of  mysticism,  but  shall  seek  to  determine  from 
his  works  whether  his  own  recorded  experiences  entitle  him 
to  be  ranked  in  this  strange  and  noble  company  of  the  other- 
worldly, and,  if  so,  to  ascertain  the  type  and  degree  of  his 
mysticism. 

No  biographical  data  which  have  come  down  to  us  from 
any  contemporary  afford  us  the  slightest  help  here.  Neither 
the  classic  paragraphs  of  Villani  nor  Boccaccio's  garrulous 
biography  hints  at  any  extraordinary  mystical  exaltation  of 
the  great  Florentine,  or  suggests  that  any  weird  light  of  holi- 
ness rests  upon  him.  Tradition  also,  which  has  saved  a  few 
meager  and  rather  pointless  anecdotes,  is  silent  as  a  sphinx. 
Whatever  mystical  emotions  the  poet  had  were  in  no  re- 
spect spectacular  enough  to  attract  the  attention  of  others. 
Most  reticent  of  men,  he  has,  however,  with  the  rare  ability 
of  an  exalted  genius,  laid  bare  the  life  of  his  spirit  from  its 
first  awakening  until  he  gazed  into  the  Fountain  of  Living 
Light  Eternal.  Our  task  is  to  search  the  records  for  indi- 
cations of  Dante's  genuine  experiences.  This  is  not  as  simple 
a  matter  as  at  first  it  may  appear,  for  in  the  Vita  Nuova  he 
is  an  artist  portraying  the  ideal  of  love,  and  in  the  D'wina 
Commedia  he  is  a  protagonist  often  representing  universal 
humanity.  Yet  Dante's  individuality  is  so  positive  and 
clearly  defined  that  we  need  not  despair  of  dissociating  his 

180 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  181 

own  personal  thoughts  and  actions  from  the  creations  of  his 
art  and  the  demands  of  his  message. 

The  first  question  is  the  evidential  value  of  the  Vita  Nuova 
with  its  stately  opening  Incipit  Vita  Nuova.  To  what  extent 
may  the  dream-like  experiences  of  the  poet  be  considered 
autobiographical?  Dante's  nature  was  so  essentially  truth- 
ful that  our  investigation  would  be  easy  if  we  were  per- 
suaded that  he  was  attempting  to  set  down  his  actual  thoughts 
and  emotions,  but  as  we  have  just  stated,  he  was  a  trouba- 
dour of  love:  an  idealist  describing  his  passion  in  the  in- 
terests of  his  art:  he  is  evidently  more  eager  to  conform 
his  words  to  a  poetic  ideal  than  to  dispassionately  narrate 
facts  as  they  occurred. 

We  must  furthermore  remember  that  the  poems  compris- 
ing the  Vita  Nuova  were  selected  from  the  sheaf  of  verses 
which  he  had  written  from  time  to  time  during  the  en- 
chanted days  of  his  youth,  while  the  prose  comments  which 
bind  them  together  were  composed  between  his  twenty-fifth 
and  thirtieth  years  when  he  was  quite  a  different  being  from 
the  one  who  wrote  the  sonnets  and  odes  which  they  explain. 
"  An  erudite  Dante,"  says  Grandgent,  "  is  this  commentator, 
serious,  careful  of  his  reputation,  steeped  in  mysticism,  full 
of  Biblical  images  and  of  philosophical  doctrine.  What  he 
desires  above  all  is  to  justify  his  life  before  others  and  before 
his  own  conscience,  to  read  into  his  juvenile  verses  a  depth 
and  unity  which  they  were  far  from  possessing,  to  bring  all 
the  emotions  of  youth  into  harmony  with  the  supernatural  in- 
fluence ultimately  ascribed  to  Beatrice,  to  transform  this 
gentle  Florentine  into  an  angel,  to  discover  in  all  his  relations 
with  her  the  sign  of  heavenly  predestination."  1  With  this 
statement  I  cordially  agree,  but  the  incredible  pains  the  poet 
took  to  bring  into  unity  his  conflicting  verses  indicate  that 
they  grew  out  of  genuine  experiences  whose  mystical  mean- 
ing his  more  mature  reason  was  attempting  to  interpret. 

1  Studies  of  Dante's  Lyrics,  p.  129. 


1 82  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

With  confidence,  therefore,  we  trace  and  ascribe  to  Dante 
before  he  reached  his  thirtieth  year  four  distinct  spiritual 
experiences.  The  first  occurred  when  he  was  eighteen  and 
he  thus  describes  it:  "  This  admirable  lady  appeared  to  me, 
clothed  in  purest  white,  between  two  gentle  ladies  who  were 
of  greater  age;  and,  passing  along  a  street,  turned  her  eyes 
toward  that  place  where  I  stood  very  timidly;  and  by  her 
ineffable  courtesy,  which  is  to-day  rewarded  in  the  eternal 
world,  saluted  me  with  such  virtue  that  it  seemed  to  me  that 
I  saw  all  the  bounds  of  bliss."  2  Intoxicated  by  the  sweet- 
ness of  her  words  he  betook  himself  to  his  chamber,  "  and 
thinking  of  her,  a  sweet  slumber  overcame  me,  in  which  a 
marvelous  vision  appeared  to  me."  It  was  a  vision  of  love 
as  a  lord  of  fearful  aspect  bearing  in  his  arms  the  lady  of 
the  salutation  sleeping,  and  in  his  hand  the  poet's  heart 
all  aflame.  Love  aroused  the  lady  and  compelled  her  to  eat 
the  burning  heart. 

This  chance  meeting  with  Beatrice  and  her  most  sweet 
salutation  awoke  the  poetic  soul  of  Dante  and  kindled  his 
genius  to  produce  the  first  sonnet  he  cared  to  preserve. 

His  succeeding  verses  were  conventional,  and  scarcely 
superior  to  those  of  the  little  group  of  poets  in  Florence  to 
which  he  belonged.  To  dissemble  his  love,  Dante  tells  us, 
he  wrote  various  verses  to  a  screen  lady,  so  that  Beatrice 
withheld  her  salutation  in  such  a  pronounced  manner  that 
the  poet  exclaimed:  "  I  have  held  my  feet  on  that  part 
of  life  beyond  which  no  man  can  go  with  intent  to  return." 
Beatrice's  mockery  pierces  the  pride  of  the  poet  to  the  quick 
and  creates  a  crisis  in  his  life.  Up  to  this  period  his  love 
had  been  introspective,  henceforth  his  thoughts  and  speech 
go  out  in  spiritual  adoration  of  his  beloved.  This  change 
of  center  causes  him  to  drop  the  conventional  and  artificial 
from  his  verses  and  to  become  real.  He  adopts  the  dolce 
stil  nuovo,   the  sweet,  new  style,   which  expresses  genuine 

2  Norton's  translation. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  183 

emotion  in  a  natural  way.  This  change  of  direction  not 
only  modifies  his  mode  of  speech  and  his  theme,  it  places  his 
happiness  upon  securer  foundations:  for  adoration  is  a  more 
permanent  source  of  inspiration  than  introspection. 

The  third  and  most  vital  experience  of  all  came  in  the 
sudden  death  of  Beatrice.  The  thought  of  the  possibility  of 
this  sorrow  had  saddened  his  verses,  but  now  the  blow  falls, 
and  the  poet  exclaims:  "  Quo  modo  sedet  sola  civitas  plena 
populo!"  Instead  of  an  outburst  of  passionate  grief  this 
composed  and  subtile  poet  falls  into  a  profound  meditation 
on  the  meaning  of  the  mystical  number  nine.  The  number 
three  is  the  symbol  of  the  Trinity  and  nine  is  three  multiplied 
by  itself,  and  is  therefore  a  symbol  of  momentous  spiritual 
import.  His  awakened  mind,  during  those  months  suc- 
ceeding the  death  of  his  beloved,  pondered  long  on  her  spir- 
itual significance  to  his  thought  and  life.  He  recalled  that 
he  was  eighteen,  twice  nine  years,  when  she  gave  him  her 
most  sweet  salutation.  He  remembered  another  meeting 
when  the  beauty  of  the  girl  had  smitten  his  heart;  eagerly 
he  reckoned  back  the  years  and  found  to  his  delight  that  he 
was  then  at  the  end  of  his  ninth  year  and  she  at  the  begin- 
ning of  her  ninth.  In  his  first  sonnet  he  had  noted  that 
Love  had  appeared  to  him  when  one-third  of  the  night  had 
passed.  This  chance  line  is  now  to  him  full  of  mystical 
significance,  he  thinks  he  perceives  a  hidden  spiritual  purpose. 
If  the  vision  appeared  in  the  fourth  hour  of  the  night,  was 
not  this  the  first  of  the  last  nine  hours  of  the  night,  and 
therefore  pregnant  with  divine  intimations?  Another  vision 
of  Love  he  remembers  came  to  him  in  the  ninth  hour  of  the 
day,  though  the  verse  he  wrote  at  the  time  made  no  men- 
tion of  it.  During  a  grievous  illness  he  had  a  most  dis- 
tressing dream  of  Beatrice's  death,  of  which  Rossetti  has 
painted  an  impressive  picture,  and  now  he  figures  it  out  that 
the  dream  occurred  in  the  ninth  day  of  his  sickness.  An- 
other fact  impressed  him.     Composing  a  serventese  contain- 


1 84         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

ing  the  names  of  sixty  Florentine  ladies  he  marveled  to  find 
that  the  name  of  his  lady  would  consent  to  stand  in  no  other 
place  but  the  ninth.  Again,  after  Beatrice's  death,  he  was 
recalled  from  his  infatuation  with  the  lady  of  the  window, 
by  a  strong  imagination  taking  possession  of  him  "  about  the 
hour  of  nones  "  of  Beatrice  in  "  those  crimson  garments  in 
which  she  had  first  appeared  to  my  eyes." 

Dante's  keen  mind  found  a  great  joy  and  supposed  in- 
sight into  the  divine  plans  by  untangling  the  mysterious 
significance  of  the  date  of  his  lady's  death.  It  took  place 
on  the  eighth  day  of  June,  1290.  The  poet  then  takes  this 
date  to  pieces  and  displays  the  hidden  signet  of  God  dis- 
played therein.  "  I  say  that,  according  to  the  mode  of 
reckoning  in  Arabia,  her  most  noble  soul  departed  in  the 
first  hour  of  the  ninth  day  of  the  month;  and,  according  to 
the  reckoning  in  Syria,  she  departed  in  the  ninth  month 
of  the  year,  since  the  first  month  there  is  Tisrin,  which  with 
us  is  October.  And  according  to  our  reckoning,  she  de- 
parted in  that  year  of  our  indiction,  that  is,  of  the  years  of 
the  Lord,  in  which  the  perfect  number  was  completed  for 
the  ninth  time  in  that  century  in  which  she  had  been  set 
in  this  world:  and  she  was  of  the  Christians  of  the  thir- 
teenth century.  One  reason  why  this  number  was  so  friendly 
to  her  may  be  this:  since,  according  to  Ptolemy  and  accord- 
ing to  the  Christian  truth,  there  are  nine  heavens  which 
move,  and  according  to  the  common  astrological  opinion, 
the  said  heavens  work  effects  here  below  according  to  their 
respective  positions,  this  number  was  her  friend  to  the  end 
that  it  might  be  understood  that  at  her  generation  all  the 
nine  movable  heavens  were  in  most  perfect  relation.  This 
is  one  reason  thereof ;  but  considering  more  subtilely  and  ac- 
cording to  the  infallible  truth,  this  number  was  she  herself; 
I  mean  by  similitude,  and  I  intend  it  thus:  the  number  three 
is  the  root  of  nine,  for,  without  any  other  number,  multiplied 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  185 

by  itself  it  makes  nine,  as  we  see  plainly  that  three  times 
three  make  nine.  Therefore,  since  three  is  the  factor  by 
itself  of  nine,  and  the  Author  of  miracles  by  himself  is  three, 
namely,  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Spirit,  who  are  three  and 
one,  this  Lady  was  accompanied  by  the  number  nine,  that 
it  might  be  understood  that  she  was  a  nine,  that  is,  a  miracle, 
whose  only  root  is  the  marvelous  Trinity.  Perchance  even 
a  more  subtile  reason  might  be  seen  herein  by  a  more  subtile 
person;  but  this  is  that  which  I  see  for  it,  and  which  best 
pleases  me."  Thus  does  the  poet  bring  three  calendars, 
Arabian,  Syrian  and  Christian  to  bear  on  this  simple  date 
to  wrest  spiritual  value  from  it.  The  infinite  pains  he  takes 
shows  a  mind  that  will  not  disregard  facts  and  a  peculiar 
mysticism  that  scents  secret  meanings  in  every  event.  We 
can  imagine  the  intellectual  glow  that  came  to  the  young 
poet's  aroused  mind  as  he  seemed  to  discover  significance  after 
significance  in  the  various  trifling  incidents  of  his  love.  God 
had  indeed  come  to  him  in  Beatrice.  She  was  not  only  the 
fairest  of  gentle  ladies,  but  her  nature  was  rooted  in  the 
Trinity  itself.  She  was  God's  messenger  to  him.  Meditat- 
ing upon  these  high  themes  he  wrote  the  final  sonnet  of  the 
Vita  Nuova  in  which  the  metamorphosis  of  his  lady  is  seen 
to  be  taking  place.  He  beholds  her  in  the  highest  heaven 
clothed  in  such  glory  that  Love's  reporting  words  are  dark. 
Then  follows  an  account  of  his  fourth  epochal  experience. 
"  After  this  sonnet,  a  wonderful  vision  appeared  to  me,  in 
which  I  saw  things  which  made  me  resolve  to  speak  no  more 
of  this  blessed  one,  until  I  could  more  worthily  treat  of  her. 
And  to  attain  to  this,  I  study  to  the  utmost  of  my  power,  as 
she  truly  knows.  So  that,  if  it  shall  please  Him  through 
whom  all  things  live,  that  my  life  be  prolonged  for  some 
years,  I  hope  to  say  of  her  what  was  never  said  of  any  woman. 
And  then  may  it  please  Him  who  is  the  Lord  of  Grace,  that 
my  soul  may  go  to  behold  the  glory  of  its  lady,  namely,  of  that 


186         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

blessed  Beatrice,  who  in  glory  looks  upon  the  face  of  Him 
qui  est  per  omnia  saecula  benedictus  (who  is  blessed  for- 
ever)." 

This  is  the  insight  we  obtain  into  the  mystical  qualities 
of  Dante's  genius  from  the  facts  evident  in  this  first  revela- 
tion of  himself.  He  heard  no  voices,  he  saw  no  blinding 
light,  he  was  not  initiated  into  trance-like  states.  It  was 
through  the  ornamented  gateway  of  beauty  that  the  power 
of  the  Eternal  entered  his  soul.  Not  the  beauty  of  nature 
which  disturbed  Wordsworth  "  with  the  joy  of  elevated 
thoughts,"  but  the  beauty  of  woman ;  not  the  charm  of 
physical  loveliness,  but  those  spiritual  graces  which  adorn 
womanhood,  gentleness,  courtesy,  humility.  The  passion 
aroused  was  not  that  of  a  troubadour  for  his  mistress,  or 
a  knight  for  his  lady,  but  an  ardent  spiritual  passion  for 
an  ethereal  ideal.  It  was  an  aesthetic  mysticism, —  God  re- 
vealed through  the  aesthetic  sense.  Such  was  the  mysticism 
of  Shelley,  whose  genius  had  so  much  in  common  with  Dante 
that  he  has  interpreted  the  Florentine  in  many  marvelous 
verses.  In  the  Hymn  to  Intellectual  Beauty,  written  when 
he  was  twenty-four,  he  describes  his  awakening  sense  of 
"  the  awful  shadow  of  some  unseen  Power  "  that  "  floats  un- 
seen amongst  us." 

"  When  musing  deeply  on  the  lot 
Of  Life,  at  the  sweet  time  when  the  winds  are  wooing 

All   vital   things  that  wake  to  bring 

News   of   birds    and   blossoming  — 

Sudden,  thy  shadow  fell  on  me; 
I  shrieked,  and  clasped  my  hands  in  ecstasy! 
I  vowed  that  I  would  dedicate  my  powers 
To   thee   and   thine." 

The  extremely  sensitive  nature  both  of  Dante  and  Shelley 
in  the  springtime  of  their  days  quivered  under  the  spell  of 
the  Spirit  of  Beauty,  only  to  the  elder  poet  the  beauty  had 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  187 

more  of  a  religious  meaning  and  was  personal  in  the  spiritual 
grace  of  a  woman. 

A  quickened  mind  soon  becomes  aware  of  many  un- 
suspected interests,  and  Dante,  having  had  one  glimpse  of  the 
sacramental  nature  of  the  world,  thanks  to  his  thorough 
medievalism,  at  once  laid  hold  of  the  cryptic  writing  of  the 
eternal  in  the  temporal,  and  was  preoccupied  with  the  sig- 
nificance of  numbers,  symbolism  and  allegory.  In  the  Vita 
Nuova  the  mysticism  of  the  poetry,  which  is  earlier  than  the 
prose,  is  the  passion  for  spiritual  beauty;  the  mystical  ele- 
ment of  the  prose  has  to  do  with  symbolism,  especially  the 
significance  of  numbers.  Meditation  on  these  things  has 
fruition  in  an  intuition,  which  Dante  calls  a  vision,  of  what 
Beatrice  might  mean  to  him,  his  art  and  to  the  world. 

Although  our  poet  did  not  see  visions  and  hear  voices 
after  the  manner  of  some  mystics,  we  should  not  fail  to  notice 
that  vision  and  audition  both  are  prominent  features  of  this 
early  work.  Love  is  not  to  him  a  suffused  emotion,  but 
is  beheld  as  a  shining  God,  a  lord  of  fearful  aspect,  a  youth 
in  white  garments,  a  pilgrim  meanly  clad.  These  visions 
are  not  the  hallucinations  of  an  over  stimulated  mind,  rather 
they  appear  to  result  from  a  powerful  imagination  which 
spontaneously  visualizes  its  creations  and  personifies  ideals. 

Voices  also  call  through  the  pages  of  this  volume.  Dante 
conceived  Love  so  vividly  and  dramaticaly  that  he  conversed 
with  him.  But  the  voices  are  never  beyond  his  control. 
They  are  his  stage  instruments.  For  the  most  part  they  ap- 
pear in  the  prose  which  was  written  years  after  the  event. 
And  it  is  to  be  noted  that  frequently  Love  speaks  in  Latin. 
As  the  poet  claimed  that  he  first  met  Beatrice  when  he  was 
nine  years  of  age,  and  as  at  twenty-five  he  confessed  that  he 
read  Cicero  with  difficulty,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  at 
that  memorable  meeting  a  voice  actually  called  to  him  say- 
ing in  the  ancient  tongue:  " Ecce  deus  fortior  me,  qui 
veniens  dominabitur  mihi." 


188         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Between  the  closing  of  the  Vita  Nuova  and  the  opening 
of  the  Divina  Commedia  is  a  period  of  some  two  decades. 
During  this  time  Beatrice  is  indeed  a  holy  memory,  some- 
times, perhaps,  a  spiritual  presence,  but  God  no  longer 
reveals  himself  to  the  poet  through  the  graces  of  womanhood. 
The  way  of  communication  now  is  the  Truth.  The  Spirit 
of  Beauty  is  superseded  by  the  Spirit  of  Truth  as  the 
avenue  of  approach  to  God.  For  consolation  in  the  death 
of  his  beloved  Dante  turned  to  the  study  of  philosophy, 
not  as  a  modern  student,  languidly  conscious  of  the  limita- 
tions of  the  human  mind  and  of  the  fallibility  of  all  systems 
of  thought;  but  with  the  eagerness  and  assurance  of  the 
mediaeval  student  who  is  persuaded  that  the  very  heart  and 
glory  of  truth  may  be  known. 

After  the  manner  of  Boethius,  who  was  his  model,  Dante 
personified  Philosophy  and  sang  her  praises  in  a  volume  en- 
titled 77  Convivio,  the  Banquet.  His  doctrine  of  Love  is 
here  clearly  mystical: 

"  Love,  truly  taken  and  nobly  considered,  is  naught  else 
than  the  spiritual  union  of  the  soul  and  of  the  thing  loved: 
to  which  union  the  soul,  of  her  own  nature,  runs  swift  or 
slow,  according  as  she  is  free  or  impeded."  3 

Of  the  rapture  of  his  love  of  truth  Dante  has  borne  ample 
testimony.  He  turned  to  philosophy  thinking  to  find  silver 
and  instead  he  found  gold.  He  felt  so  much  of  "  her  sweet- 
ness that  love  of  her  expelled  all  other  thought."  He  found 
her  a  "  lady  full  of  all  sweetness,  adorned  with  virtue, 
wonderful  in  knowledge,  glorious  in  liberty."  "  Oh,  most 
sweet  and  unutterable  looks,  of  a  sudden  ravishing  the  mind, 
which  appears  in  the  demonstrations  in  the  eyes  of  Philosophy 
when  she  discourses  to  her  lovers." 

But  noble  and  genuine  as  was  this  philosophical  love,   it 
was  superseded  and  in  part  condemned  by  a  more  worthy  af- 
fection  which    his   deepening   experiences   of    life   produced. 
3  Conv'wio  III,  2,  1 8. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  189 

When  Dante  was  in  his  forty-eighth  year,  in  1313?  he  was  a 
woefully  disillusioned  man.  He  felt  most  bitterly  that  the 
Papal  hierarchy  were  misleading  the  people  in  spiritual  in- 
terests, while  the  appointed  guide  in  temporal  affairs,  Henry 
VII,  had  failed  and  was  dead.  To  his  lacerated  spirit  Phil- 
osophy seemed  a  cold  comfort,  and  lyrics  to  her  praise  a 
childish  play.  He  needed  God,  else  he  would  be  driven  to 
despair.  He  would  have  done  with  artistic  trifles  and  seek 
for  himself  and  proclaim  to  others  the  way  of  life.  This 
he  does  in  the  Divinia  Commedia. 

This  mediaeval  miracle  of  song  has  many  meanings.  It  is 
the  most  powerful  political  pamphlet  ever  written;  it  is  the 
world's  greatest  poem,  it  is  more  than  a  cross  section  of  Italy 
in  1300;  it  is  the  quintessence  of  the  spirit  of  ten  centuries. 
In  it  Dante  appears  as  the  representative  of  humanity  as  well 
as  in  his  own  propria  persona.  We  shall  consider  it  only  as 
it  reveals  the  poet's  characteristic  mysticism. 

It  is  thoroughly  mystical  in  that  it  is  a  pilgrimage  from 
a  dark  confused  forest  to  God.  Dante  sets  out  in  full  self- 
reliance  to  climb  the  sunlit  mountain,  but  his  own  strength 
is  insufficient;  the  beasts  of  incontinence,  pride  and  avarice 
are  too  powerful  for  him  and  he  is  driven  back  again  into 
the  dark  forest  "  where  the  sun  is  silent."  Here  Virgil, 
reason  illumined  by  divine  grace,  appears  to  lead  him  among 
the  truly  dead  that  he  may  know  what  sin  is  and  what  its 
awful  consequences  are.  After  the  journey  through  Hell, 
Virgil  leads  Dante  up  the  steeps  of  Purgatory  to  show  him 
the  effects  of  sin  on  the  human  soul,  and  the  method  of 
cleansing  its  stain  and  escaping  its  power. 

Having  led  the  way  through  purgatorial  discipline  by 
which  the  glorious  liberty  of  the  children  of  God  is  attained, 
human  reason  can  do  no  more.  Divine  Revelation  personi- 
fied by  Beatrice  meets  the  poet  on  the.  summit  of  Purgatory 
and  conducts  him  through  the  stars  to  the  Empyrean  —  the 
timeless,  spaceless  existence  —  where  God  and  the  redeemed 


igo         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

dv/ell  in  eternal  felicity.  Here  Dante  by  spiritual  intuition 
gazes  into  the  depths  of  the  splendors  of  the  Living  Light 
Eternal  and  experiences  the  goal  of  all  mysticism, —  that 
supreme,  ecstatic  moment  of  understanding  which  reveals  all 
things  in  God  and  God  in  all  things,  and  gives  perfect  peace 
and  reconciliation.  It  is  interesting  to  note  in  this  pilgrim- 
age how  thoroughly  Catholic  is  the  mystical  journey.  The 
Protestant  believes  that  the  way  to  God  is  so  plain  that  the 
wayfaring  man  though  a  fool  need  not  err  therein.  Let  the 
seeker  only  love  with  his  whole  heart  and  he  will  keep  the 
way.  Thus  John  Bunyan's  Christian  has  companions  but 
no  infallible  guide  save  the  book  in  his  hand.  To  the  Catho- 
lic Dante,  on  the  other  hand,  the  way  is  so  obscured  by  dark- 
ness and  so  steep  that  the  poet  is  never  for  a  moment  with- 
out a  guide  to  direct  his  steps. 

The  whole  conception  and  machinery  of  the  poem  is 
mystical.  The  desire  of  the  soul  for  the  Good  is  the  im- 
pelling motive  of  every  action.  God,  whose  glory  penetrates 
everywhere  through  the  universe,  has  implanted  something 
of  his  divine  fire  in  every  human  heart.  This  sacred  flame 
moves  spontaneously  toward  God  its  source,  as  the  fire 
mounts  toward  the  heavens.  But  owing  to  imperfect  in- 
telligence man  follows  false  images  of  good,  and  thus  for- 
sakes the  true  path.  Consequently  he  needs  a  guide  to  re- 
veal the  way.  His  love  is  also  excessive  or  defective  as  well 
as  perverted,  and  to  "  set  love  in  order  "  is  the  key  to  the 
discipline  of  the  Purgatory.  Urged  on  by  love,  walking  in 
the  way  that  sets  love  in  order,  the  pilgrim  soul  will  come 
at  last  to  that  vision  of  the  divine  Love  whose  availing 
glory  shall  subdue  all  rebellion  and  win  the  heart  to  perfect 
peace  and  reconciliation. 

The  Beatific  Vision,  which  is  described  in  the  closing 
cantos  of  the  Paradiso,  is  to  my  mind  the  most  glorious 
achievement  of  the  constructive  literary  imagination.  Prob- 
ably I  have  read  it  a  hundred  times,  and  never  without  those 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  191 

creeping  sensations  of  the  spine  which  result  when  the  very 
center  of  one's  being  is  shaken.  I  thoroughly  endorse 
Cardinal  Manning's  tribute:  "  No  uninspired  hand  has 
ever  written  thoughts  so  high  in  words  so  resplendent  as  the 
last  stanza  of  the  Divina  Commedia.  It  was  said  of  St. 
Thomas,  Post  Summam  Thomae  nihil  restat  nisi  lumen 
gloriae!  It  may  be  said  of  Dante  Post  Dantis  Paradisum 
nihil  restat  nisi  visio  Dei/ '  Let  me  quote  the  familiar  and 
immortal  lines.  "  O  Supreme  Light,  that  so  high  upliftest 
Thyself  from  mortal  conceptions,  re-lend  to  my  mind  a  little 
of  what  Thou  didst  appear,  and  make  my  tongue  so  powerful 
that  it  may  be  able  to  leave  one  single  spark  of  Thy  glory 
for  the  folk  to  come;  for,  by  returning  somewhat  to  my 
memory  and  by  sounding  a  little  in  these  verses,  more  of 
Thy  victory  shall  be  conceived. 

"  I  think  that  by  the  keenness  of  the  living  ray  which  I 
endured,  I  should  have  been  dazed  if  my  eyes  had  been 
averted  from  it;  and  I  remember  that  on  this  account  I  was 
the  more  hardy  to  sustain  it  till  I  conjoined  my  gaze  with 
the  Infinite  Goodness. 

"  O  abundant  Grace,  whereby  I  presumed  to  fix  my  look 
through  the  Eternal  Light  till  that  there  I  consummated 
the  seeing!  I  saw  that  in  its  depth  is  enclosed,  bound  up 
with  love  in  one  volume,  that  which  is  dispersed  in  leaves 
through  the  universe;  substance  and  accidents  and  their 
modes,  fused  together,  as  it  were,  in  such  wise,  that  that 
of  which  I  speak  is  one  simple  Light.  The  universal  form 
of  this  knot  I  believe  that  I  saw,  because,  in  saying  this, 
I  feel  that  I  rejoice  more  speciously.  .  .  .  Thus  my  mind, 
wholly  rapt,  was  gazing  fixed,  motionless,  and  intent,  and 
ever  with  gazing  grew  enkindled.  In  that  Light  one  be- 
comes such  that  it  is  impossible  he  should  ever  consent  to 
turn  himself  from  it  for  other  sight;  because  the  Good 
which  is  the  object  of  the  will  is  all  collected  in  it,  and 
outside  of  it  that  is  defective  which  is  perfect  there. 


i92         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

11  Now  will  my  speech  fall  more  short,  even  in  respect  to 
that  which  I  remember,  than  that  of  an  infant  who  still 
bathes  his  tongue  at  the  breast.  Not  because  more  than  one 
simple  semblance  was  in  the  Living  Light  wherein  I  was 
gazing,  which  is  always  such  as  it  was  before;  but  through 
my  sight,  which  was  growing  strong  in  me  as  I  looked,  one 
sole  appearance,  as  I  myself  changed,  was  altering  itself 
to  me. 

"  Within  the  profound  and  clear  subsistence  of  the  Lofty 
Light  appeared  to  me  three  circles  of  three  colors  and  one 
dimension;  and  one  seemed  reflected  by  the  other,  as  Iris  by 
Iris,  and  the  third  seemed  fire  from  which  the  one  and  from 
the  other  is  equally  breathed  forth. 

"  O  how  inadequate  is  speech,  and  how  feeble  toward  my 
conception!  and  this  toward  what  I  saw  is  such  that  it  suf- 
fices not  to  call  it  little. 

"  O  Light  Eternal,  that  sole  abidest  in  Thyself,  sole  under- 
standest  Thyself,  and,  by  Thyself  understood  and  understand- 
ing, lovest  and  smilest  on  Thyself!  That  circle,  which  ap- 
peared in  Thee  generated  as  a  reflected  light,  being  awhile 
surveyed  by  my  eyes,  seemed  to  me  depicted  with  our  effigy 
within  itself,  of  its  own  very  color;  wherefore  my  sight  was 
wholly  set  upon  it.  As  is  the  geometer  who  wholly  applies 
himself  to  measure  the  circle,  and  finds  not  by  thinking  that 
principle  of  which  he  is  in  need,  such  was  I  at  that  new 
sight.  I  wished  to  see  how  the  image  was  conformed  to  the 
circle,  and  how  it  has  its  place  therein ;  but  my  own  wings 
were  not  for  this,  had  it  not  been  that  my  mind  was  smitten 
by  a  flash  in  which  its  wish  came. 

"  To  the  high  fantasy  here  power  failed ;  but  now  my  de- 
sires and  my  will  were  revolved,  like  a  wheel  which  is  moved 
evenly,  by  the  love  which  moves  the  sun  and  the  other  stars." 

That  Dante  was  in  intellectual  sympathy  with  the  leading 
mystics  of   the   Middle  Ages   and   that  he   has  clearly   set 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  193 

forth  the  science  of  mysticism  as  it  was  conceived  in  his  time, 
is  beyond  dispute. 

The  question  now  arises:  To  what  extent  did  Dante  per- 
sonally experience  this  mystical  love  and  union?  To  my 
mind  Dante  could  not  easily  escape  having  a  genuine  mystical 
experience.  For  years  he  brooded  on  his  vast,  terrible  and 
resplendent  theme.  His  vivid  and  powerful  imagination 
would  make  his  conception  most  real  to  him.  Such  flaming 
thoughts  held  tenaciously  in  mind  through  a  period  of  years 
would  transform  his  character  and  lift  him  to  the  heights  of 
emotional  exaltation.  In  the  quiet  of  Ravenna  he  could  not 
dwell  closely  with  Beatrice  and  the  stars,  contemplating 
month  by  month  and  even  year  by  year  the  transcendent 
splendor  of  those  realms  of  glory  without  having  his  heart 
and  will  made  submissive  to  the  Divine  Love.  It  is  not 
strange  that  he  affirms  in  the  first  canto  of  the  Paradiso: 
"  In  the  heaven  which  receives  most  of  His  light  I  have  been, 
and  have  seen  things  which  he  who  descends  from  there  above 
neither  knows  how  nor  has  the  power  to  recount."  In  his 
dedication  letter  to  Can  Grande  he  declares  that  his  own 
unworthiness  is  no  argument  to  be  used  against  God  making 
him  a  messenger  through  whom  to  communicate  His  will, 
for  even  Nebuchadnezzar  received  divine  revelation.  In  the 
closing  lines  of  his  vision  he  solemnly  affirms  that  after  his 
high  fantasy  had  failed  "  my  desire  and  my  will  were  re- 
volved like  a  wheel  that  evenly  is  turned  by  the  love  that 
moves  the  sun  and  other  stars."  Most  ^conclusive  of  all 
perhaps  is  the  testimony  of  the  last  sonnet  he  wrote,  that  to 
Giovanni  Quirino, 

The  King  by  whose  rich  grace  His  servants  be 
With  plenty  beyond  measure  set  to  dwell 
Ordains  that  I  my  bitter  wrath  dispel 

And  lift  mine  eyes  to  the  great  consistory; 

Till,  noting  how  in  glorious  choirs  agree 


194         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

The  citizens  of  that  fair  citadel, 
To  the  Creator  I,  His  creature,  swell 
Their  song,  and  all  their  love  possesses  me. 
So,  when  I  contemplate  the  great  reward 
To  which  our  God  has  called  the  Christian  seed, 
I  long  for  nothing  else  but  only  this. 
And  then  my  soul  is  grieved  in  thy  regard, 

Dear  friend,  who  reck'st  not  of  thy  nearest  need, 
Renouncing  for  slight  joys  the  perfect  bliss.4 

SUMMARY 

That  mysticism  was  woven  into  the  very  structure  of 
Dante's  mind  there  can  be  no  question.  He  saw  all  things 
sub  specie  aeternitatis.  Things  seen  were  but  the  thin  veil 
hiding  and  revealing  the  Unseen.  It  was  in  the  eternal  world 
that  he  habitually  dwelt.  He  went  into  the  eternal  to  find 
the  true  meaning  of  life.  That  he  ended  each  section  of  the 
Divina  Commedia  with  the  word  "  stars  "  indicates  that  he 
saw  all  things  against  the  background  of  the  Everlasting. 
But  the  special  characteristics  of  his  mysticism  must  be 
noted. 

His  mystical  sense  was  quite  unlike  Wordsworth's.  In 
nature  he  did  not  perceive 

"  Something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the  light  of  setting  suns." 

Nature  indeed  calmed  his  hot  and  imperious  heart,  espe- 
cially the  light  of  the  stars  and  the  mystery  of  the  immense 
spaces.  Yet  nature  was  only  the  palette  from  which  he  took 
many  colors,  her  ordered  glories  did  not  quicken  his  sense  of 
God  or  awaken  "  that  serene  and  blessed  mood  of  harmony, 
and  the  deep  power  of  joy  to  see  into  the  life  of  things." 

He  was  too  good  a  Catholic,  and  too  convinced  a  Roman, 
not  to  find  God  in  history;  but  it  was  a  deduction  of  his 
intellect;  he  did  not  see  God  in  the  teeming  life  of  the  men 
of  his  day.     Rather,  like  Newman,  he  looked  into  this  busy, 

4  Rossetti's  translation. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  195 

living  world  and  saw  no  reflection  of  its  Creator.  It  ap- 
peared to  him  "  nothing  else  than  the  prophet's  scroll,  full 
of  lamentations,  and  mourning,  and  woe."  And,  like  New- 
man, he  felt  the  need  of  an  infallible  interposition  to  rescue 
and  guide  humanity. 

Neither  was  his  the  mysticism  of  a  loving  and  fervent 
heart.  Unlike  St.  Francis  whom  he  greatly  reverenced,  or 
St.  Bernard  whom  he  chose  for  his  interpreter  amid  the 
splendors  of  the  Great  White  Rose,  he  had  no  sweet  and 
precious  sense  of  the  presence  of  Christ  during  that  terrible 
journey  of  his.  God  to  him  was  the  Emperor  of  the  Heavens, 
Christ  the  God-man  who  had  made  the  supreme  atonement, 
but  Dante  did  not  talk  with  God  as  friend  to  friend,  or 
commune  with  Christ  as  with  a  dear  companion. 

His  was  the  mysticism  of  Plato  glorified  by  the  fire  that 
was  in  Shelley.  His  emotions  were'  always  kept  in  strict  sub- 
ordination to  his  intellectual  perceptions.  Even  in  the  un- 
veiled splendor  of  the  Fountain  of  Living  Light  Eternal  he 
suffered  no  rapture  to  merge  the  outlines  of  his  identity  with 
the  glory  about  him.  In  full  possession  of  all  his  faculties, 
and  in  his  proper  individuality,  he  stands  a  clearly  outlined 
figure  against  the  intolerable  radiance  of  the  Perfect  Light. 
Unlike  many  mystics  he  did  not  confuse  good  and  evil  in  a 
pantheistic  mist.  The  line  demarking  them  was  distinct 
even  in  the  highest  heaven.  Nature  might  be  phenomenal, 
but  not  the  wicked  spirit. 

I  have  just  stated  that  Dante's  mysticism  was  a  cross  be- 
tween that  of  Shelley  and  Plato.  The  spiritual  beauty  of  a 
Florentine  maiden  led  his  thoughts  to  the  throne  of  God. 
Her  grace  was  the  revelation  of  the  divine  Love.  At  her 
death  his  mind  was  arrested  by  the  occurrence  of  the  number 
nine  in  his  relationship  with  her.  She  was  a  nine,  a  miracle, 
and  this  belief  gave  his  mysticism  a  peculiarly  mediaeval  col- 
oring. In  those  early  days  the  passion  of  the  poet  was 
stronger  than  the  ardor  of  the  mystic.     Not  until  he  wrote 


ig6         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

the  closing  sonnet  of  the  Vita  Nuova  and  its  prose  commen- 
tary did  his  mystic  passion  suffuse  his  pages.  Upon  the  death 
of  Beatrice  he  turned  to  truth  and  sought  it  until  the  sight 
of  his  eyes  was  blurred,  and  he  grew  lean  from  vigils.  Like 
Plato  he  would  attain  the  vision  of  God  by  the  process  of 
reflective  thought.  He  had  an  intuition  of  the  One  in  the 
Many  rather  than  a  feeling  of  the  divine  Friend.  With  all 
his  love  of  philosophy  our  poet  had  little  of  the  serene  temper 
of  the  true  philosopher.  His  heart  was  too  passionate  and 
intense.  The  cold,  crystalline  vision  that  enraptured  the 
mind  of  the  greatest  of  Greeks  was  not  that  which  Dante 
framed  by  his  glowing  imagination.  At  first  he  personified 
Philosophy  as  a  rare  maiden,  whose  glowing  eyes  represented 
the  demonstration  of  truth,  and  the  radiance  of  her  smile  its 
persuasion.  Dante  is  as  yet  only  the  philosophic  troubadour 
yearning  for  the  laurel.  He  has  entered  the  Temple  of 
Truth  and  known  full  well  the  joys  of  study,  but  into  the 
Arcanum  where  every  personal  wrong  and  ambition  is  for- 
gotten in  ecstacy  of  communion  with  God's  splendor  he  has 
not  entered. 

But  as  he  searched  through  the  books  of  his  day  on  science 
and  theology  and  mystical  love  how  unified  and  resplendent 
was  that  conception  of  Reality  which  searched  through  every 
avenue  of  emotion  and  aspiration !  The  Ptolemaic  conception 
of  the  universe,  and  the  medieval  theology  were  easily  woven 
into  a  system  complete  and  readily  visualized,  and  in  our 
poet's  mind  this  scheme  of  things  became  anything  but  a  dry 
scholastic  system.  His  imperial  imagination  saw  it  stand  as 
a  flaming  and  many-hued  object  of  adoration.  What  a  vision 
it  was!  God,  the  Eternal  Light  in  his  timeless,  spaceless 
Empyrean!  Nine  hierarchies  of  angels  circling  about  him 
gaze  with  fascinated  vision  into  the  ever  unfolding  depths 
of  divine  wisdom  and  grace.  The  wonders  they  behold  en- 
flame  their  hearts  with  quenchless  love  and  call  forth  in  them 
supernatural  powers  of  service.     The  light  and  love  of  God 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  DANTE  197 

passing  through  their  angelic  minds  stream  down  through  all 
the  revolving  heavens  and  penetrate  everywhere  through  the 
universe,  while  all  created  intelligences  aspiring  toward  the 
answering  love  of  God  cause  a  cosmic  dance  of  love.  Love  is 
the  center  and  circumference  of  all  things.  Love  is  the  goal 
and  guide  of  every  pilgrim  soul. 

Prolonged  contemplation  of  this  inspiring  interpretation 
of  truth  profoundly  changed  Dante's  character.  It  became 
impossible  for  him  to  be  the  mere  troubadour  either  of 
Beauty  or  of  Philosophy.  To  continue  the  Convhio  was 
impossible.  He  must  make  the  whole  vision  manifest.  He 
is  called  to  be  a  prophet  of  the  Highest.  He  must  arouse 
men  from  their  sleep  of  sin  and  show  the  way  to  true  felicity. 
Therefore  he  writes  the  Divina  Commedia  to  reveal  the 
nature  of  sin,  the  way  of  escape  and  the  path  to  God. 

Continued  meditation  on   the  divine  truths  enkindled  in 

the  poet-prophet  a  thirst  for  that  all  penetrating  glance  into 

the  heart  of  Truth  which  is  the  goal  of  the  desire  of  every 

intellectual  mystic.     "  Well   I   know   that   the   mind   never 

sated  is  unless  the  Truth  illumine  it  beyond  which  naught 

else   extends."     To    behold    the    splendor    of    the    Ultimate 

Truth,  to  stand  as  the  representative  of  humanity  before  the 

Fountain  of  the  Living  Light  Eternal,  to  interpret  as  far  as 

human  speech  could  do  the  final  mystery,  this  became  the 

audacious  purpose  of   the  poet.     The  troubadour  has  long 

been  dead  within  him;   the  artist  eager  for  the  laurel  has 

perished,  it  is  only  the  mystic  passion  within  him  now  that 

urges  him  on  to  look  into  the  face  of  God.     Choosing  St. 

Bernard,   symbol  of   the  mind's  intuitive   power,   "  who  on 

earth  tasted  of  this  bliss,"  as  his  guide,  Dante  advanced  into 

the  center  of  the  Mystical  White  Rose  and  joined  his  gaze 

to  that  point  of  intensest  Light  in  whose  depths  he  beheld  the 

ultimate  mysteries.     And  how  could  a  vivid  mind  like  his 

hold  before  it  continuously  that  vision  without  having  its 

intolerable  glory  stamp  the  divine  stigmata  on  his  soul? 


ig8         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

That  Dante's  rr^sticism  was  thoroughly  of  the  intellectual 
sort  is  proved  by  the  structure  of  the  Paradiso.  There  is 
not  a  sensuous  line  in  it.  No  golden  streets  or  gates  of  pearl. 
No  languishing  embrace  of  lovers.  It  is  a  Paradise  such  as 
Sir  Isaac  Newton  might  have  conceived;  the  heaven  of  a 
mathematician,  beholding  the  ever  heightening  beauty  of 
truth,  not  defining  truth,  but  dealing  in  its  symbols  —  the 
point  and  the  circle.  And  God  is  neither  the  anthropomor- 
phic Being  of  Milton  and  the  artists,  nor  an  abstraction  of 
the  philosophers, —  Reason,  Thought,  a  Principle ;  but  Light, 
"  Light  intellectual,  full  of  love,  love  of  true  good,  full  of 
joy,  joy  that  transcends  every  sweetness." 

If  I  put  my  thought  in  a  phrase  of  my  own  coining,  and 
therefore  perhaps  awkward  and  inadequate,  I  should  call 
Dante  an  aesthetico-intellectual  mystic,  for  he  found  God  by 
beholding  "  the  beauty  of  truth  enkindled  along  the  stairway 
of  the  eternal  palace." 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  MEISTER  ECKHART 
Rufus  M.  Jones 

Among  the  mystics  who  have  reached  "  the  shining  table- 
land to  which  our  God  Himself  is  moon  and  sun,"  Meister 
Eckhart  most  surely  belongs.  The  details  of  his  life  are 
nearly  all  lost  and  one  needs  to  say  "  probably "  before 
almost  all  statements  about  him.  He  was  born  in  the  vil- 
lage of  Hochheim  in  Thuringia,  not  far  from  Gotha,  some- 
what before  1260.  In  his  fifteenth  year  he  entered  the 
Dominican  Order  at  Erfurt,  where  Luther  was  later  to 
distinguish  himself.  The  Order  was  at  its  height  at  this 
time  and  attracted  the  most  highly  endowed  and  thoughtful 
youth,  among  whom  Eckhart  was  a  shining  example.  He 
seems  to  have  continued  his  studies  in  Cologne  under  Al- 
bertus,  then  venerable  with  age,  the  greatest  teacher  of  the 
time,  the  one  scholar  who  has  won  the  title  of  "  Magnus," 
and  the  master  who  inspired  and  trained  Thomas  Aquinas 
(1224-1274).  He  was  chosen  Prior  of  the  Dominican  Con- 
vent at  Erfurt  and  was  made  Vicar  for  the  district  of 
Thuringia  and  thus  the  great  scholar,  who  was  to  glorify 
silence  and  contemplation,  found  himself  in  a  tangle  of  in- 
tricate practical  problems. 

He  was  sent  to  Paris  in  1300  on  important  business  for 
the  Order  and  with  the  intent  that  he  should  complete  his 
studies  at  this  great  center  of  learning.  He  appears  to  have 
spent  two  years  in  Paris  and  to  have  won  the  title  "  Meister," 
by  which  he  has  been  ever  since  known.  At  a  later  time 
he  seems  to  have  spent  a  second  period  in  Paris  and  to  have 
taught  in  the  University.     During  the  next  twenty  years 

199 


2oo         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

after  becoming  "  Meister  "  he  was  one  of  the  leading  ad- 
ministrators of  the  Dominican  Order  in  Germany,  com- 
pelled to  take  long  and  frequent  journeys  and  to  be  immersed 
in  the  details  and  controversies  of  an  extensive  religious 
Society.  He  appears  to  have  spent  a  period  in  Frankfurt 
as  Dominican  preacher,  a  somewhat  longer  one  in  Strasbourg 
and  to  have  settled  in  Cologne  as  Teacher  in  the  Dominican 
School  there,  probably  about  1320. 

Two  of  the  great  mystics  of  the  fourteenth  century, 
Johannes  Tauler  and  Heinrich  Suso,  came  under  his  in- 
fluence during  the  Cologne  period.  Other  persons  heard 
him,  wondered,  were  touched  and  moved,  went  their  way 
and  engaged  in  the  pursuits  of  life.  These  two  men  heard 
him,  listened  with  their  souls,  had  the  creative  fire  kindled 
within  them  and  became  altered  forever  under  the  inspira- 
tion and  impact  of  their  teacher.  Not  only  these  two  pillar 
mystics  among  his  contemporaries,  but  almost  all  succeed- 
ing mystics  as  well,  were  influenced  by  the  great  spiritual 
scholar.  He  takes  his  place  in  the  small  list  of  those  guiding 
thinkers  who  through  the  ages  have  marked  out  the  mystic 
path  which  multitudes  of  humbler  souls  have  walked. 

He  was  a  successful  administrator,  but  his  greatest  voca- 
tion was  that  of  preacher.  He  preached  usually  in  the 
vernacular  speech  and  drew  large  throngs  to  hear  him.  It 
is  one  of  the  amazing  characteristics  of  the  thirteenth  and 
fourteenth  centuries  that  the  people  of  those  times  were 
able  to  understand  the  philosophy  of  Thomas  Aquinas,  the 
poetry  of  Dante  and  the  sermons  of  Meister  Eckhart.  Few 
college  students  of  the  present  day  are  competent  for  any  one 
of  these  three  tasks.  The  most  difficult  of  the  three  tasks 
is  understanding  Eckhart's  sermons  to  which  the  common 
people  flocked,  as  they  did  a  little  later  to  hear  Tauler  in 
Strasbourg. 

It  was  an  age  of  mysticism,  in  the  schools,  in  the  cloister, 
in  literature,  in  philosophy  and  among  the  common  people. 


MYSTICISM  OF  MEISTER  ECKHART      201 

Many  popular  forms  of  mysticism  were  abroad,  some  of  them 
good  and  some  of  them  bad.  It  was  a  fermenting,  seething 
period  when  religion  was  the  main  business  of  life.  The 
Brethren  of  the  Free  Spirit,  the  Beghards,  the  Beguines 
and  many  other  loosely  mystical  brotherhoods  were  to  be 
found  up  and  down  the  Rhine  Valley  and,  to  a  less  extent, 
in  other  parts  of  Germany.  Meister  Eckhart  was  very 
familiar  with  their  teaching  and  their  ways.  His  circuit 
had  been  a  wide  one  and  he  was  an  expert  in  these  matters. 
He  preached  sermons  sometimes  which  left  the  common 
earth  and  its  practical  problems  far  behind,  but  he  never 
lost,  as  some  of  the  lesser  mystics  of  the  time  did,  the  dis- 
tinction of  right  and  wrong,  of  good  and  evil.  He  had  a 
profound  regard  for  moral  implications.  He  would  go  as 
far  as  any  one  in  his  insistence  upon  a  Divine  Light  within 
the  soul,  but  he  had  one  criterion  by  which  he  distinguished 
inner  Light  from  darkness  —  the  Light,  if  it  was  Light, 
must  guide  the  recipient  into  truth  and  goodness,  it  could 
not  promote  anything  which  entangled  the  life  in  looseness 
or  evil.  "  There  are,"  he  declared  in  a  sermon,  "  people 
who  say,  if  I  have  God  and  His  love,  I  may  do  what  I  like. 
That  is  a  false  idea  of  liberty.  When  thou  wishest  a  thing 
contrary  to  God  and  His  law  thou  hast  not  the  love  of 
God  in  thee."  *  One  of  the  clearest  and  noblest  of  all  his 
words  declared:  "No  person  is  ever  free  from  the  con- 
sequences of  sin  until  he  is  free  of  sin."  2 

During  the  closing  period  of  his  life  Eckhart  was  sus- 
pected of  being  unorthodox  and  was  charged  with  "  heresies  " 
in  a  series  of  twenty-eight  propositions.  The  technical 
"  heresies  "  of  which  he  was  suspected  need  not  concern  us 
now.  "  He  wished  to  know  more  than  he  should,"  is  the 
interesting  verdict  which  the  Pope  gave  after  the  good  man 

iPfeiffer's  Meister  Eckhart  Vol.  II  of  Deutsche  Mystiker,  Leip- 
zig, 1857,  P-  232- 

2  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  664. 


202         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

had  died,  with  his  heresy  trial  not  yet  finished.  "  Orthodox  " 
in  the  strict  sense  he  was  not,  but  he  was  pure,  sincere,  pro- 
found, loving,  adoring,  burning  with  unmixed  passion  for 
God.  We  may  well  match  these  great  characteristics  of  his 
soul  off  against  the  modicum  of  error  that  may  have  existed 
in  the  twenty-eight  propositions  collected  out  of  his  sermons. 

It  is  unfortunate  that  in  relation  to  Eckhart  we  possess 
so  little  material  of  an  autobiographical  character.  Per- 
sonal accounts  of  experience  are  of  first  importance  in  study- 
ing a  mystic.  It  is  of  some  value,  no  doubt,  to  find  out 
what  type  of  metaphysics  he  held  and  what  were  his  theories 
about  the  soul's  relation  to  God,  but  these  things  are  poor 
substitutes  for  the  person's  own  description  of  what  hap- 
pened to  him  and  what  he  knew  first  hand.  Just  because 
we  possess  no  "  Confessions,"  no  revealing  autobiography,  of 
Eckhart  the  studies  of  him  have  usually  taken  an  abstract 
turn  and  are,  as  they  are  bound  to  be,  cold,  dry  and  hard 
to  read.  His  style  is  difficult,  because  he  is  fond  of  epigram 
and  breathlessly  bold  paradox.  Furthermore  he  was  using  a 
language  not  yet  adapted  for  the  expression  of  such  pro- 
found and  subtle  thought,  and  finally  he  goes  down  into  that 
inner  region  of  life  for  which  no  language  has  coined  words 
of  easy  description.  In  all  these  particulars  he  was  like 
Heraclitus  the  Dark,  whose  famous  fragment  would  have 
pleased  Eckhart:  "  You  cannot  find  the  boundaries  of  the 
soul  by  going  in  any  direction,  so  deep  and  bottomless  it  is." 

If  he  wrote  the  story  of  "  Schwester  Katrie "  (Sister 
Cathie)  which  is  usually  attributed  to  him  he  was  very  prob- 
ably suggesting,  in  his  account  of  another's  experience,  what 
a  long  hard  road  of  discipline  must  be  traveled  before  the 
soul  can  get  beyond  words  about  God  and  can  come  fully 
home  to  Him.  "  You  must  learn,"  he  says,  "  not  only  to 
ascend,  but  to  descend."  "  You  must  know  the  lonely  place 
of  peace  as  a  man  knows  his  own  courtyard."  It  is  not  a 
state  of  feelings;  it  is  a  work  of  mind  and  will  cooperating 


MYSTICISM  OF  MEISTER  ECKHART      203 

with  Grace.  One  of  his  contemporaries  bore  this  interest- 
ing testimony  of  him,  that  "  God  kept  nothing  hid  "  from 
Meister  Eckhart,  which  implies  that  he  himself  never  spared 
the  "  toil  of  heart  and  knees  and  hands  "  that  won  the 
spiritual  heights  where  he  arrived.3 

Nothing  can  be  more  completely  false  than  the  view  that 
the  mystic's  way  is  a  lazy  man's  expedient.  Modern 
Christians  are  inclined  to  look  back  upon  the  thirteenth  cen- 
tury as  a  time  of  superstition  and  darkness  and  to  suppose 
that  the  mediaeval  saints  withdrew  from  the  stern  affairs  of 
life  and  adopted  superficial,  rose-water  methods  of  dealing 
with  sin.  Few  of  us,  I  am  afraid,  are  made  of  the  fiber 
to  endure  the  discipline,  to  bear  the  crucifixions,  to  undergo 
the  mental  training,  to  stand  the  strain  of  concentration 
and  contemplation  required  for  even  the  beginner  on  the 
mystic  pathway.  The  attainments  of  the  outstanding  figures 
like  Eckhart  and  Ruysbroeck  are  wholly  beyond  the  range  of 
what  is  possible  to  us  to-day,  I  will  not  say  in  deed,  but 
even  in  thought  and  imagination.  "  With  all  his  powers  one 
must  pray,"  our  mystic  says.  "  Eyes,  ears,  heart,  mouth  and 
the  whole  mind  must  be  given  to  it."  4 

Meister  Eckhart  was  in  one  particular  at  least  a  fore- 
runner of  the  Reformation.  He  put  a  very  low  estimate 
upon  what  had  come  to  be  called  "  works  "  or  "  merits." 
He  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  it  was  a  suggestion  of  the 
Devil  that  salvation  depended  upon  fastings,  vigils,  morti- 
fications and  external  performances.  These  things  have  no 
magic  for  him.  He  felt  that  even  works  of  pity  and  com- 
passion, done  to  secure  salvation,  were  likewise  inadequate. 
They  belong  to  the  stage  of  the  servant,  not  that  of  the  free 
son.  There  must  be  an  inner  work,  he  always  insists.  The 
motive,  the  attitude  of  the  soul,  the  birth  of  love  and  de- 

3  "  Diz  ist  Meister  Eckehart 
Dem  Got  nie  niht  verbarc." 
4  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  pp.  544-5- 


204         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

votion  are  the  essential  matters.  Even  ecstasies  are  no  in- 
dication that  one  has  arrived  at  his  goal.  They  are 
temporary  and  fleeting.  They  do  not  indicate  spiritual 
height  or  sublimity.  The  soul  must  attain  an  abiding  pos- 
session, a  permanent  union  with  God,  and  then  the  inner 
state  will  determine  the  outer  activities.  It  is  only  a  weak 
spiritual  life  that  leans  upon  outward  garb  and  external 
works,  but  when  the  inward  life  is  pure  and  free  from  self- 
ishness one  will  be  ready  to  leave  an  ecstasy  of  the  highest 
degree,  even  like  that  of  St.  Paul's,  to  carry  a  cup  of  soup 
to  a  poor  needy  person.5  When  once  the  soul  is  joined  in 
union  with  God,  then  nothing  is  too  hard,  no  labors  or  suffer- 
ing, no  privations  or  losses.  "  Torment  not  thyself  [i.  e., 
with  mortifications]  ;  if  God  lays  sufferings  on  thee,  bear 
them.  If  He  gives  thee  honors  and  fortunes,  bear  them 
with  no  less  readiness.  One  man  cannot  do  all  things;  he 
must  do  some  one  thing;  but  in  this  one  he  can  comprehend 
all  things.  If  the  obstacle  is  not  in  thee,  thou  canst  as  well 
have  God  present  with  thee  by  the  fire  or  in  the  stall  as  in 
devout  prayer.  Thou  mayest  arrive  at  the  state  in  which 
thou  shalt  have  God  essentially  dwelling  in  thee;  thou  shalt 
be  in  God  and  God  in  thee."  6 

Not  less  in  the  spirit  of  the  Reformation  were  his  emphasis 
on  the  importance  of  individual  religious  experience  and  his 
lack  of  emphasis  on  the  sphere  and  function  of  the  Church 
and  ecclesiastical  machinery.  Doctrine,  orthodoxy,  sacra- 
ments, priests,  the  Virgin  Mary,  take  a  very  lowly  and  sub- 
ordinate place  in  his  thought.  Love,  faith,  earnestness, 
purity,  consecration  count  infinitely  more  than  conformity  to 
system  does.     "  Mary  is  blessed  not  because  she  bore  Christ 

5  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  553.     See  also  p.  330  and  p.  543. 

6  The  passage  quoted  is  not  a  literal  translation,  but  a  paraphrase 
of  a  striking  sermon  by  Eckhart.  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  pp.  543—578- 
The  paraphrase  is  taken  in  part  from  Ueberweg,  History  of  Philos- 
ophy, New  York,  1874,  Vol.  I,  p.  480. 


MYSTICISM  OF  MEISTER  ECKHART       205 

bodily  but  because  she  bore  him  spiritually,  and  in  this  par- 
ticular every  one  can  be  like  her."  T 

The  most  important  point  in  Eckhart's  teaching  to  select 
for  consideration  in  a  short  exposition  like  this  is  his  doctrine 
of  the  soul.  He  arrived  at  his  conception  of  the  soul  along 
two  paths,  one  of  them  the  path  of  experience  and  the  other 
the  path  of  metaphysics,  which  is  experience  deeply  reflected 
upon.  Mere  metaphysics  does  not  make  one  a  mystic.  We 
do  not  properly  call  a  man  a  mystic  unless  through  the  inner 
way,  in  silence  and  contemplation,  or  by  the  tapping  of  in- 
terior reservoirs  of  energy,  he  feels  himself  to  be  in  contact 
and  correspondence  with  the  realm  of  spiritual  resources 
and  emerges  from  his  experience  with  the  conviction  alive 
within  him  that  God  and  man  have  somehow  been  finding 
each  other. 

No  one  can  read  Eckhart  without  feeling  assured  that  such 
experiences  were  an  important  part  of  his  life.  He  speaks 
always  as  though  he  had  been  there.  There  is  a  glow,  a 
fervor,  a  radiance  breaking  through  his  rugged  mediaeval 
German  sentences  which  leave  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  the 
stumbling  reader  that  this  man  knows  what  he  is  talking 
about  and  that  if  we  could  see  his  luminous  face  and  could 
revisualize  his  transformed,  dynamic  personality  we  should 
understand  why  the  common  people  flocked  to  hear  him  and 
why  Tauler  and  Suso  were  changed  through  their  fellow- 
ship with  him.  Take  words  like  these  which  he  spoke  in 
one  of  his  sermons:  "  Earth  cannot  escape  the  sky,  let  it 
flee  as  it  will  up  or  down ;  the  sky  flows  into  it  and  makes  it 
fruitful  whether  it  will  or  not.  So  does  God  to  man.  He 
who  will  escape  Him  only  runs  to  His  bosom;  for  all  corners 
of  the  world  are  open  to  Him."  8  That  does  not  sound  like 
dialectic,  it  is  first-hand  testimony.  "  Truth,"  he  says, 
"  must  be  inwardly  won  " ;  "  the  eternal  word  must  be  heard 


7  Pf  eiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  280. 
s  Pf  eiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  287. 


2o6        AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

and  understood  in  ourselves  and  we  must  be  inwardly  united 
to  God."  9  That  is  not  theory,  it  is  knowledge  of  acquaint- 
ance. 

But  at  the  same  time  Eckhart  did  have  a  very  carefully 
thought  out  theory  of  the  nature  of  the  soul.  He  has 
gathered  his  point  of  view  from  many  sources,  both  Christian 
and  pagan.  It  has  been  suggested  10  that  there  is  a  strong 
Arabian  influence  apparent  in  Eckhart's  conception  of  the 
soul,  especially  the  influence  of  Averroes.  Such  influence  is 
not  impossible,  but  it  does  not  seem  to  me  necessary  to  go 
out  of  the  beaten  track  of  European  thought,  leading  back  to 
Aristotle  for  the  sources  of  the  peculiar  psychology  of  Eck- 
hart. "  The  apex  of  the  mind"  (das  hochste  der  selen 
vernunftigkeit)  is  unsundered  from  God.  We  now  realize 
that  the  retina  of  the  eye  is  to  all  intents  and  purposes  a 
projected  part  of  the  brain,  somewhat  so  Eckhart  thinks  that 
there  is  an  active,  creative  principle  in  man's  soul  which 
through  all  the  mutability  of  time  and  space  binds  us  back 
into  our  divine  origin  and  holds  us  firmly  in  Him  who  made 
us  for  Himself.  Eckhart  calls  this  central  principle  of  the 
soul  the  "  Fiinklein,"  spark,  or  flash,  or  glimmer.  Sometimes 
he  names  it  with  an  old  German  wTord,  now  obsolete,  the 
"  Ganster  "  (das  ganster  des  geistes,  p.  670;  or  daz  obeste 
gensterlein,  p.  79).  This  word  also  means  spark  or  gleam, 
and  in  a  passage  on  page  79  of  Pfeiffer's  edition  he  says  that 
this  highest  light-spark  in  the  soul  is  never  separated  from 
God  and  operates  directly,  i.  e.,  without  any  mediation.  It 
is  the  Principle  which  the  schoolmen  called  synteresis,  the 
divine  ground  of  the  soul,  the  essential  spiritual  nature  in 
man,  which  makes  him  exercise  faith,  become  responsive  to 
God  and  capable  of  salvation  in  the  deeper  sense.  The  word 
scintilla  had  sometimes  been  used  for  this  innermost  faculty, 

9  Ibid.  p.  24. 
10  See  Karl  Pearson  in  Mind,  Vol.  XI,  1886. 


MYSTICISM  OF  MEISTER  ECKHART      207 

a  word  which  Eckhart  put  into  popular  speech  and  made  cur- 
rent for  the  succeeding  centuries,  as  Fiinklein. 

Aristotle  had  made  a  sharp  distinction  between  active 
reason  and  passive  reason,  the  higher  and  lower  functions 
of  the  soul.  Eckhart  used  these  terms  very  frequently: 
Der  menc'h  hat  eitve  Wirkende  ve'rnunft  und  eine  lidende 
vernunft.11  (Man  has  an  active  reason  and  a  passive  rea- 
son.) The  interpreters  of  Aristotle,  even  before  the 
Christian  era  had  settled  upon  the  conclusion  that  the  active 
reason  was  a  gift  of  God  to  the  soul  —  was  in  fact  some- 
thing of  the  actual  substance  of  God  contributed  to  the  soul 
and  forming  the  basis  and  ground  of  man's  spiritual  nature. 
No  other  doctrine  had  such  a  weighty  influence  on  the  entire 
history  of  Christian  mysticism  as  this  Aristotelean  concep- 
tion of  the  soul  had.  However  dark  and  pessimistic  were 
the  prevailing  theological  views  of  man  there  were  always 
some  Christians  to  be  found  who  held  fast  to  this  idea,  which 
they  attributed  to.  the  great  Greek  master,  that  the  apex 
of  the  soul  was  an  inalienable  contribution  of  God  to  the 
spiritual  structure  in  man.  Passive  reason,  with  its  senses 
and  emotions  was  wholly  dependent  for  its  material  upon 
the  influences  of  the  external  environment,  but  "  active 
reason  "  was  pure,  super-empirical  and  always  as  near  God 
as  thought  is  near  the  mind  that  thinks  it  — "  God  is  nearer 
to  me,"  Eckhart  says,  "  than  I  am  to  myself."  12  With  this 
central  conception  of  the  soul  Eckhart  quite  naturally  exalted 
silence  as  a  way  of  worship  and  made  very  much  indeed  of 
Abgescheidenheit,  i.  e.,  withdrawal  of  the  soul  from  the  im- 
pact of  the  senses  and  the  appeal  of  the  emotions  —  all  that  is 
of  the  "  creature."  "  God  is  near  us,"  he  says,  "  but  we 
are  far  from  Him;  God  is  within  but  we  are  without;  God 
is  at  home  but  we  are  away  in  a  far  country."  13     In  a  fine 

11  Pfeiffer,  op  cit.,  p.  16. 

12  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  221. 

13  Ibid.  p.  223. 


208         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

passage  in  the  second  sermon  of  Pfeiffer's  collection  he  says : 
"  The  soul,  with  all  its  powers,  has  divided  and  scattered 
itself  in  outward  things,  each  according  to  its  functions:  the 
power  of  sight  in  the  eye,  the  power  of  hearing  in  the  ear, 
the  power  of  taste  in  the  tongue,  and  thus  they  are  the  less 
able  to  work  inwardly,  for  every  power  which  is  divided  is 
imperfect.  So  the  soul,  if  she  would  work  inwardly,  must 
call  home  all  her  powers  and  collect  them  from  all  divided 
things  to  one  inward  work.  ...  If  a  man  will  work  an  in- 
ward work,  he  must  pour  all  his  powers  into  himself  as  into 
a  corner  of  the  soul,  and  must  hide  himself  from  all  images 
and  forms,  and  then  he  can  work.  Then  he  must  come  into 
a  forgetting  and  a  not-knowing.  He  must  be  in  a  stillness 
and  silence,  where  the  Word  may  be  heard.  One  cannot 
draw  near  to  this  Word  better  than  by  stillness  and  silence: 
then  it  is  heard  and  understood  in  utter  ignorance.  When 
one  knows  nothing  it  is  opened  and  revealed.  Then  we  shall 
become  aware  of  the  Divine  Ignorance,  and  our  ignorance 
will  be  ennobled  and  adorned  with  supernatural  knowledge. 
And  when  we  simply  keep  ourselves  receptive,  we  are  more 
perfect  than  when  at  work."  14 

The  best  way  to  enter  into  Life  is  to  keep  silence,  to  let 
God  speak  and  to  let  Him  work.  This  happens  best  when 
the  human  powers  are  stilled  and  the  "  creature  "  is  sup- 
pressed.15 But  Eckhart  and  the  great  mystics  do  not  mean 
by  "  silence  "  a  stagnant,  inactive  soul.  They  mean,  on  the 
contrary,  a  soul  from  the  first  awake,  alive,  with  the  deep- 
lying  unsuspected  energies  in  full  action.  The  surface  self 
is  dormant,  the  peripheral  man  is  brought  to  quiet,  but  that 
innermost  ground  of  our  spiritual  nature  is  awake,  opera- 
tive and  aware  of  the  real  divine  environment  that  sur- 
rounds it.     God  is  always  more  ready  to  give  Himself  than 

14  Ibid.  p.  13.     I  have  used  Evelyn  Underbill's  translation  given 
in  her  Mysticism,  New  York,  191 1,  p.  381. 

15  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  18. 


MYSTICISM  OF  MEISTER  ECKHART      209 

we  are  to  receive  Him,  and  He  needs  us  as  much  as  we  need 
Him.16  "You  shall  sink  away  from  your  selfhood,"  this 
bold  mystic  tells  us,  "  you  shall  flow  into  His  selfhood  and 
your  you  shall  become  completely  changed  into  His  Mine, 
so  that  you  apprehend  eternally  with  Him  His  uncreated  es- 
sential being.17  The  highest  process,  the  supreme  attainment 
here,  or  even  hereafter,  for  this  great  mystic  is  the  birth  of 
God,  the  bringing  forth  of  the  Son  in  man.  Eckhart,  when 
he  is  in  these  high  regions,  never  makes  his  meaning  very 
clear.  He  startles  with  his  paradoxes,  but  he  does  not  sup- 
ply the  seeker  with  much  concrete  description.  He  is  say- 
ing, as  all  the  most  spiritual  teachers  have  said,  that  the 
vital  stage  of  religion  is  not  reached  until  we  get  beyond 
the  use  of  words  and  phrases,  beyond  ceremony  and  ritual, 
beyond  historical  events  and  things  done  for  us  by  others, 
and  exercise  our  own  essential  spiritual  activities.  In  Saint 
Paul's  words:  "  It  is  not  circumcision  that  avails  but  a 
new  creation."  It  is  not  a  scrupulous  observance  of  a  sacred 
law  that  makes  one  Godlike;  it  is  dying  to  the  law,  being 
crucified  to  even  the  loftiest  external  systems,  until  one  can 
say  out  of  his  own  experience:  "  It  is  no  more  I  that  live 
but  Christ  lives  in  me." 

"  Bringing  forth  the  Son,"  is  Eckhart's  way  of  telling  his 
generation  that  "  works  "  are  dead  and  empty  things,  that 
pilgrimages  and  masses,  holy  relics  and  prayers  to  saints  fall 
far  short  of  what  constitutes  the  essential  act  of  religion. 
This  consists  of  an  inward  act  of  response  to  the  divine 
presence  inwardly  revealed,  a  complete  surrender  of  every- 
thing in  the  universe  which  separates  the  soul  from  Him, 
an  undivided  inclination  of  the  whole  inner  being  toward 
Him  and  an  experience  of  revitalization  comparable  only 
to  a  resurrection  from  the  dead.  This,  to  Eckhart's  mind, 
is  the  real  business  of  the  universe ;  suns  and  stars,  mountains 

16  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  pp.  60  and  149. 

17  Pf eiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  319. 


210         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

and  rivers,  kings  and  thrones,  generals  with  their  victorious 
armies  are  dust  and  ashes  compared  with  the  spiritual  rebirth 
of  God  in  a  human  life.  The  joy  is  double.  The  soul  re- 
joices as  Mary  rejoiced  when  Christ  was  born  and  God  re- 
joices as  does  the  shepherd  when  the  sheep  is  found. 

It  is  an  unimportant  question  what  Eckhart  thought 
were  the  marks  which  forever  distinguished  Christ  from  the 
Son  reborn  in  other  men.  One  would  need  to  ask  the  same 
question  of  Saint  Paul.  Christ  was  for  them  both  the  pat- 
tern revelation  of  the  Son,  but  He  is  the  first-born  among 
many  brethren,  since  God  never  ceases  to  bring  forth  His 
Son  and  to  carry  forward  the  revelation  of  His  creative 
activity.  "  We  are  celebrating,"  Eckhart  says  in  his  first 
sermon,  "  the  time  of  the  Eternal  Birth  which  God  the 
Father  brought  forth  and  never  ceases  to  bring  forth  to 
Eternity:  a  Birth  which  takes  place  in  time  and  in  human 
nature.  Saint  Augustine  says  this  Birth  is  forever  taking 
place.  But  if  it  does  not  take  place  in  me,  what  does  it 
avail?     Everything  depends  on  this  that  He  shall  be  born 

•  ■'•'IS 

in  me.    18 

The  rebirth  of  the  soul  culminates  in  a  union  with  God  in 
which  the  soul  is  not  lost  but  found.  The  united  soul  does 
not  talk  any  more  of  I,  or  me,  or  mine.  There  is  no  longer 
any  striving  for  things  that  are  finite  and  indifferent.  Such 
things  are  estimated  at  their  real  value.  God  is  seen  to  be 
all  there  is  worth  having  or  loving  or  enjoying.  The  strain 
and  stress  are  over.  The  soul  has  arrived.  Activity,  how- 
ever, does  not  cease.  On  the  contrary,  God  works  now  un- 
hindered through  the  soul;  the  energies  of  God  pulsate 
through  the  reborn  man  and  make  him  a  burning  and  shining 
light.  Nothing  is  now  too  hard  or  difficult.  Pain  and  hard- 
ship, losses  and  crosses  are  welcomed.  "  I  say  that  after  God 
there  was  never  anything  nobler  than  sorrow.  Had  there 
been  anything  nobler  than  sorrow,  then  surely  the  Father 
18Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.t  p.  3. 


MYSTICISM  OF  MEISTER  ECKHART       211 

would  have  granted  that  to  His  Son,  Jesus  Christ.  But 
we  find  that  in  His  humanity  there  was  no  other  thing  of 
which  Christ  had  so  much  as  of  sorrow.  ...  If  there  had 
been  anything  nobler  than  sorrow  then  God  would  therewith 
have  redeemed  man."  19  It  was  not  a  stoic,  "  bloody  but 
unbowed,"  who  spoke  the  following  message,  it  was  a  man 
whom  God  had  brought  very  close  to  His  loving  heart: 
"  That  a  man  has  a  restful  and  peaceful  life  in  God  is  good. 
That  a  man  endures  a  painful  life  in  patience,  that  is  better ; 
but  that  a  man  has  his  rest  in  the  midst  of  a  painful  life, 
that  is  the  best  of  all."  20 

Nowhere  does  Eckhart  reveal  more  depth  of  insight  than 
in  the  way  he  deals  with  time  and  space,  but  it  is  difficult 
to  see  how  his  listeners  could  have  understood  him  as  he  took 
them  into  such  breathless  regions.  Eternity  never  means  for 
him  something  which  begins  after  time  ends,  or  mere  end- 
less time,  or  a  going  on  forever.  Eternity  is  an  all-contain- 
ing, all-inclusive,  indivisible  Now.  "  The  Now  in  which 
God  made  the  world  is  as  near  the  present  time  as  is  the 
now  in  which  I  am  speaking;  and  the  Last  Day  is  as  near 
that  Now  as  is  our  yesterday.  Everything  that  God  does 
is  an  everpresent  Now  (in  eime  gegenwiirtigen  nu)."  21  We 
live  so  much  on  the  lower  plane  of  passive  reason  with  its 
discursive  methods  of  spreading  everything  out  in  space  and 
ticking  it  off  in  a  clock-time  succession  that  we  fail  to  grasp 
things  as  they  really  are  in  a  miteinander  experience,  i.  e., 
as  taking  place  in  one  integral  whole  of  reality,  the  way  for 
instance  that  we  experience  music  and  visible  beauty.  The 
Eternal  Birth  is  an  ascent  from  this  lower  plain  of  life  to 
that  table-land  level  where  the  soul  sees  spiritual  things 
spiritually. 

It  is  true  in  one  sense  that  Eckhart  was  a  quietist,  even 

^  Ibid.  335. 

20  Ibid.  p.  221. 

21  Pfeiffer,  op.  cit.,  p.  266. 


212  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

that  he  was  a  father  of  quietists.  He  had  no  faith  in  the 
capacities  of  "  mere  man  "  (if  there  is  any  such  being).  He 
depreciated  the  "  creature."  He  preached  against  the  exer- 
cise of  confidence  in  the  finite  self.  He  threw  everybody 
back  upon  the  work  which  God  Himself  works  through  the 
soul  when  man  gets  his  creaturely  self  out  of  the  way,  re- 
moves the  hindrances  and  allows  God  to  act  unimpeded.  But 
this  does  not  mean  passivity,  stagnation  or  cessation  of  action. 
It  means  action  on  a  higher  level,  under  higher  guidance  and 
direction.  Instead  of  acting  for  petty  ends  and  selfish  aims, 
one  now  becomes  a  channel  for  the  purpose  of  God  to  flow 
through.  "  All  that  a  man  receives  through  contemplation 
he  must  pour  out  in  love." 

It  seems  to  me  unimportant  to  discuss  at  length  the  dis- 
tinction which  Eckhart  made  between  the  Godhead  and  God. 
This  was  a  common  feature  of  systems  which  came  under 
the  influence  of  Plotinus,  as  Eckhart's  did.  The  logic  of 
these  systems  of  thought  seemed  forced  to  go  back  to  an  abso- 
lute Reality,  and  in  order  to  get  an  infinite,  all-perfect  Source, 
they  felt  compelled  to  retreat  beyond  all  that  was  finite,  all 
that  was  manifested  or  expressed,  beyond  all  that  could  be 
defined,  therefore  beyond  self-consciousness,  will-purpose  and 
all  we  mean  by  personality.  They  had  to  begin  with  a  blank 
infinite,  an  absolute  that  was  super-everything.  The  attain- 
ment of  the  conception  of  a  concrete  infinite  is  one  of  the 
supreme  achievements  of  modern  philosophy,  and  we  shall 
not  need  to  charge  it  up  against  Plotinus,  Eckhart  and 
Boehme  that  they  found  themselves  forced  to  take  refuge  in 
the  One,  the  Alone,  the  Undifferentiated  Godhead  (die  un~ 
genaturte  natur).  Their  triumph  consists  in  having  at- 
tained such  a  degree  of  spiritual  life  and  positive  goodness 
when  they  were  forced  to  work  with  such  stubborn  abstract 
concepts.  Would  that  with  our  better  equipment  of  in- 
tellectual furnishings  we  could  equal  them  in  dedication  of 
spirit  and  holiness  of  life ! 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA1 
George  Warren  Richards 

In  a  study  of  the  mysticism  of  St.  Theresa  2  we  shall  have 
to  take  account  of  those  facts  and  incidents  in  her  life  and 
times  which  had  a  bearing  on  her  religious  experience.3  She 
was  born  at  Avila,  in  Old  Castile,  Spain,  March  28th,  15 15, 
and  she  died  at  Alva,  in  Leon,  Spain,  October  4th,  1582. 
Through  the  place  of  birth,  she  became  a  Spaniard,  a  Roman 
Catholic,  and  a  counter-reformer.  She  was  predisposed  by 
her  Spanish  blood  to  a  mystical  type  of  piety.  Rousselot 
says:  "  Mysticism  is  the  philosophy  of  Spain."  4  It  was  the 
land  of  Ignatius  Loyola,  the  founder  of  the  Society  of  Jesus, 
and  of  John  of  the  Cross,  Rome's  "  consummate  ascetic." 
Both  were  contemporaries  of  St.  Theresa  and  the  three  had 
mystical  experiences  though  in  different  degrees. 

Born  into  a  devout  Catholic  home,  she  grew  up  and  re- 
mained through  her  life  a  loyal  child  of  the  church.  She 
never   consciously   diverted    to   a   hair's   breadth    from    the 

1  "  Of  late  it  has  been  the  fashion  to  write  her  name  Teresa  or 
Teresia,  without  "  h,"  not  only  in  Spanish  and  Italian  where  the 
"  h "  could  have  no  place,  but  also  in  French,  German,  and  Latin, 
which  ought  to  preserve  the  etymological  spelling.  As  it  is  derived 
from  a  Greek  name,  Tharasia,  the  saintly  wife  of  St.  Paulinus  of 
Nola,  it  should  be  written  Theresia  in  German  and  Latin,  and 
Therese  in  French."     Catholic  Encyclopedia,  Vol.  14,  p.  516. 

2  Her  full  name  was  Dona  Teresa  Sanchez  Cepeda  Davila  y 
Ahumada.  In  the  monastery  of  the  Incarnation  she  was  known  for 
twenty-eight  years  as  Dona  Teresa.  When  in  1563  she  entered  the 
Monastery  of  St.  Joseph,  of  the  Reform  of  the  Carmelites,  she  took 
the  name  of  Teresa  of  Jesus. 

3  Autobiography,  chap.  1,  2,  note  2. 

4  Les  Mystiques  Espagnols,  p.  3,  quoted  by  Inge,  Christian  Mys- 
ticism, Oxford,  1899,  p.  213. 

213 


2i4         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

teachings  of  Rome  or  the  directions  of  her  superiors.  She 
repeatedly  avows  her  subservience  to  the  dictates  of  au- 
thority. M  I  submit  myself  in  everything  to  the  teaching 
of  the  Holy  Mother  Church  of  Rome."  5  Even  when  there 
was  a  contradiction  between  the  command  of  her  Lojrd  and 
the  direction  of  her  confessor,  she  obeyed  the  latter  instead 
of  the  former.  At  such  a  time  "  our  Lord  Himself  told 
me  to  obey  my  confessor.  His  Majesty  afterwards  would 
change  the  mind  of  the  confessor,  so  that  he  would  have  me 
to  do  what  he  had  forbidden  before."  6 

The  Reformation,  also,  gave  direction  to  her  life.  One 
of  her  biographers  significantly  says  that  she  was  born  in 
15 15  "when  Luther  was  secreting  the  poison  wThich  he 
vomited  out  two  years  later."  7  In  her  mature  yeaJrs  she 
traced  the  cause  of  the  rise  of  Protestantism  to  the  relaxa- 
tion of  discipline  within  the  religious  orders.8  Thereupon 
she  proceeded,  in  the  face  of  bitter  opposition,  to  reform  the 
Order  of  the  Carmelites  by  founding  new  convents  in  which 
the  more  rigorous  discipline  of  the  original  rule  of  the 
Order  was  enforced.  In  this  way  she  became  a  factor  in 
the  Counter-Reformation.  She  nurtured  her  aversion  against 
11  the  Lutherans,"  including  of  course  all  Protestants,  imto 
the  day  of  her  death.  In  the  last  paragraph  of  The  Interior 
Castle  she  exhorts  the  reader,  saying:  ''every  time  you  read 
this  book,  to  praise  His  Majesty  exceedingly,  and  beg  of 
Him  to  advance  His  Church,  to  enlighten  the  Lutherans, 
and  to  obtain  the  pardon  of  my  sins." 

He«r  parentage,  her  physical  and  mental  traits,  and  her 
early  training  and  adventures  were  formative  factors  in  the 
religious  life  of  her  mature  years.  She  came  of  noble  an- 
cestry.    She    describes    her    parents   as    "  devout    and    God- 

5  The  Book  of  the  Foundations,  Prologue,  6;  also  Interior  Castle, 
pp.  24,  233;  Autobiography,  chap.  30,  14. 
Q  Autobiography,  chap.  26,  6;  Relation,  VII,  15. 
"Encyclopedia  Britannica,  9th  edition,  Vol.  23,  p.  301. 
8  Autobiography,  7,  9. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        215 

fearing."  Her  father  was  "  a  man  of  great  charity  towards 
the  poor  and  compassion  for  the  sick  and  for  servants."  He 
was  "  very  much  given  to  the  reading  of  good  books  "  and 
"  his  life  was  most  pure."  Her  mother  was  of  delicate 
health,  "  possessing  great  beauty,"  though  "  never  making 
any  account  of  it."  She  was  "  singularly  pure  in  all  her 
ways."  Her  "  carefulness  to  make  us  say  our  prayers  and 
to  bring  us  up  devout  to  our  Lady  and  to  certain  saints,  be- 
gan to  make  me  think  seriously  when  I  was,  I  believe,  six 
or  seven  years  old."  From  her  mother  she  seems  to  have 
inherited  both  a  frail  body  and  a  highly  susceptible  imagin- 
ation.9 

Notwithstanding  her  prodigious  labors,10  her  writing  of 
books,  founding  of  monasteries,  and  constant  journeys,  she 
was  weighed  down  from  youth  on  with  grievous  infirmities. 
"  My  bodily  sufferings,"  she  writes,  "  were  unendurable.  I 
have  undergone  most  painful  sufferings  in  this  life,  and,  as 
the  physicians  say,  the  greatest  that  can  be  borne,  such  as  the 
contraction  of  my  sinews  when  I  was  paralyzed."  1X  Again, 
"  I  have  been  suffering  for  twenty  years  from  sickness  every 
morning,  so  that  I  could  not  take  any  food  till  past  mid- 
day." 12  She  speaks  of  "  fainting  fits,"  "  disease  of  the 
heart,"  13  "  noise  and  weakness  in  her  head."  14 

Several  instances  in  her  childhood  give  evidence  of  her 
sensitive  nature,  vacillating  mind,  and  innate  religious  dis- 
position.    Following  the  example  of  her  mother  and  behind 

9  For  the  facts  relating  to  parents  and  childhood,  see  Autobiog- 
raphy, chap  1. 

10  From  1561  to  1582  she  founded  directly  or  indirectly  sixteen 
convents  and  fourteen  monasteries,  each  of  the  Carmelite  Order 
with  rigorous  discipline  in  distinction  from  the  Carmelites  with  a 
mitigated  rule.  The  former  were  known  as  Discalzos  (Bare- 
footed) ;  the  latter  as  Calzados  (Sandaled). 

11  Autobiography,  32,  3. 

12  Autobiography,  chap.  7,  18. 

13  Autobiography,  chap.  4,  6. 

14  Preface  of  Interior  Castle. 


216         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

the  back  of  her  father,  she  became  intensely  interested   in 
books  on  knight-errantry.     To  this  reading  she  afterwards 
traced  "  the  beginning  of  lukewarmness  in  my  good  desires 
and  the  occasion  of  my  falling  away  in  many  respects."  15 
Her  father  prudently  diverted  her  attention  from  knights  and 
turned  it  to  martyrs.     Impelled  less  by  admiration  for  their 
heroism  than  by  the  belief  that  martyrs  went  to  heaven  with- 
out detention  in  purgatory,  she,  in  collusion  with  her  brother, 
ventured  in  search  of  a  martyr's  crown  by  running  away 
from  home  to  the  land  of  the  Moors.     The  children  were 
foiled  in  their  attempt  by  an  uncle  who  met  them  near  the 
gate  of  the  city  and  returned  them  to  their  mother.     But  they 
continued  to  give  vent  to  their  childlike  religious  enthusiasm 
and  anticipated.the  work  of  later  years  in  building  hermitages 
by  piling  up  small  stones  scattered  in  her  father's  garden. 
"  I    used   to  delight  exceedingly,   when   playing  with   other 
children  in  the  building  of  monasteries  as  if  we  were  nuns, 
and  I  think  I  wished  to  be  a  nun  though  not  so  much  as  I 
did    to    be    a    martyr    or    a   hermit." 16     With    all    her    re- 
ligious inclinations,  she  was  by  no  means  insensible  to  the 
allurements  of  the  world.     She  might  have  become  a  belle 
as  well  as  a  nun.     This  element  in  her  nature  needs  to  be 
remembered  if  we  are  to  understand  her  vacillating  life  in 
the  monastery.     She  seems  to  have  been  an  attractive  girl 
fitted  to  enter  social  life  and  to  enjoy  the  world.     She  writes 
of  herself:     "  Then   growing  up,   I   began  to  discover  the 
natural  gifts  which  our  Lord  had  given  me  —  they  were  said 
to  be  many;  and  when  I  should  have  given  Him  thanks  for 
them  I  made  use  of  every  one  of  them  to  offend  Him."  17 
She  was  not  averse  to  the  vanities  and  flirtations  of  a  pretty 
girl.     "  I  began  to  make  much  of  dress,  to  wish  to  please 
others  by  my  appearance.     I  took  pains  with  my  hands  and 

15  Autobiography,  chap.  2,  1. 
1G  Autobiography,  chap.  1,  6. 
17  Autobiography,  chap.  1,  8. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        217 

my  hair,  used  perfumes  and  all  vanities  within  my  reach. 
.  .  .  This  fastidiousness  of  excessive  neatness  lasted  some 
years." 18  Later,  however,  she  assures  us  that  she  never 
permitted  herself  to  be  led  astray  by  men;  "nor  if  I  had 
the  power,  would  I  have  ever  constrained  any  one  to  like 
me,  for  our  Lord  kept  me  from  this."  19 

When  St.  Theresa  was  "  about  fourteen  years  old  "20  she 
came  under  the  sinister  influence  of  a  "  light  "  and  "  friv- 
olous "  relative  who  was  often  in  the  house.  She  was  very 
fond  of  her  company  and  found  pleasure  in  her  vanities. 
"  The  conversation  of  this  person  so  changed  me,  that  no 
trace  was  left  of  my  soul's  natural  disposition  to  virtue  and 
I  became  a  reflection  of  her  and  of  another  who  was  given 
to  the  same  kind  of  amusements."  21 

Both  her  father  and  her  older  sister  were  much  distressed 
by  her  association  with  these  persons.  Partly  to  save  her 
from  her  friends  and  partly  to  continue  her  education,  the 
father  placed  her  in  an  Augustinian  monastery  in  the  city. 
Here  she  remained  about  a  year  and  a  half,  without  a  thought 
of  becoming  a  nun.  Yet  she  could  not,  impressionable  as 
she  always  was,  escape  the  influence  especially  of  the  good  and 
holy  conversations  of  one  of  the  nuns — "  a  person  of  great 
discretion  and  sanctity."  Later  she  wrote:  "  This  good 
companionship  began  to  root  out  the  habits  which  bad  com- 
panionship had  formed,  and  to  bring  my  thoughts  back  to 
the  desire  of  eternal  things,  as  well  as  to  banish  in  some 
measure  the  great  dislike  I  had  to  be  a  nun."  22 

Her  residence  in  the  monastery  was  cut  short  by  "  a  seri- 
ous illness."  She  was  obliged  to  return  to  her  father's  house. 
She  spent  some  time,  also,  in  the  home  of  a  devout  uncle. 

18  Autobiography,  chap.  2,  2. 

19  Autobiography,  chap.  5,   ix. 

20  Autobiography,  chap.  2,  4. 

21  Autobiography,  chap.  2,  5. 

22  Autobiography,  chap.  3,  1. 


218         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

What  she  heard  from  him  and  read  to  him,  helped  her  to 
come  to  a  decision  in  life.  "  I  came  to  understand  the  truth 
I  had  heard  in  my  childhood  that  all  things  are  as  nothing, 
the  world  vanity,  and  passing  rapidly  away."  23  Thus  she 
began  a  struggle  with  herself  which  lasted  "  three  months  " 
and  ended  in  her  resolve  to  become  a  nun.  In  this  she  was 
strengthened  by  reading  the  Epistles  of  Jerome.24  Her  father 
refused  his  consent  when  she  made  known  her  purpose. 
'  The  utmost  I  could  get  from  him  was  that  I  might  do  as 
I  pleased  after  his  death."  25 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  she  left  her  home  and  became  a 
novice  in  the  Carmelite  Convent  of  the  Incarnation.  It  was 
by  no  means  an  easy  step  for  her  to  take.  "  I  remember 
perfectly  well,"  she  writes,  "  and  it  is  quite  true,  that  the 
pain  I  felt  when  I  left  my  father's  house  was  so  great  that 
I  do  not  believe  the  pain  of  dying  will  be  greater, —  for  it 
seemed  to  me  as  if  every  bone  in  my  body  were  wrenched 
asunder."  26 

II 

From  the  moment  of  her  entrance  into  the  monastery  her 
inner  struggle  ceased  and  she  felt  happy.  "  I  was  filled  with 
a  joy  so  great  that  it  has  never  failed  me  to  this  day."  27 
She  devoted  herself  ardently  to  the  cultivation  of  saintliness, 
greatly  helped  by  the  perusal  of  a  book  given  her  by  her 
uncle,  entitled,  Tercer  Abecadario  by  Fray  Francisco  de 
Osuna,  and  treating  of  the  prayer  of  recollection.  The 
effect  of  this  book  upon  her  she  describes  as  follows:  "  I 
was  much  pleased  with  the  book,  and  resolved  to  follow  the 
way  of  prayer,  which  it  described,  with  all  my  might.     And 

23  Autobiography,  chap.  3,  6. 

24  Autobiography,  chap.  3,  8. 

25  Autobiography,  chap.  3,  9. 

26  Autobiography,  chap.  4,  1. 

27  Autobiography,  chap.  4,  2. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA       219 

as  our  Lord  had  already  bestowed  upon  me  the  gift  of  tears, 
and  I  had  found  pleasure  in  reading,  I  began  to  spend  a 
certain  time  in  solitude,  to  go  frequently  to  confession,  and 
make  a  beginning  of  that  way  of  prayer,  wkh  this  book  for 
my  guide."  28 

But  now,  again,  after  the  time  of  her  novitiate  had  ex- 
pired, she  became  the  victim  of  her  vacillating  nature.  Her 
first  zeal  for  holiness  died  down.  She  yielded  to  the  more 
easy-going  life  of  the  other  nuns  who  lived  under  the  miti- 
gated rule  of  the  Carmelites.  This  allowed  much  freedom 
and  condoned  slackness  in  discipline.  The  sisters  had  free 
intercourse  with  the  society  of  Avila,  received  and  returned 
visits,  and  often  absented  themselves  from  the  monastery  for 
weeks  and  months  at  a  time.  St.  Theresa  was  only  too 
ready  to  accept  these  privileges  though  not  without  scruples 
of  conscience.  "  On  one  side,"  she  says,  "  God  was  calling 
me;  on  the  other,  I  was  following  the  world.  All  the  things 
of  God  gave  me  great  pleasure;  and  I  was  a  prisoner  to  the 
things  of  the  world."  29  She  found  no  satisfaction  in  this 
wavering  and  inconstant  mood.  "  I  may  say  that  it  was 
the  most  painful  life  that  can  be  imagined,  because  I  had  no 
sweetness  in  God  and  no  pleasure  in  the  world."  30 

After  twenty  years  of  "  strife  and  contention  which  arose 
out  of  my  attempt  to  reconcile  God  and  the  world,"  31  she 
began  a  life  of  absolute  surrender  to  God.  This  may  be 
called  her  conversion,  not  indeed  from  the  world  to  God, 
but  from  a  life  of  compromise  between  the  world  and  God, 
to  a  life  of  unconditional  submission  to  God.  She  was 
fully  conscious  of  the  change.  "  Henceforth,  it  is  another 
and  a  new  book  —  I  mean  another  and  a  new  life.     Hith- 

28  Autobiography,  chap.  4,  8. 

29  Autobiography,  chap.  7,  27. 

30  Autobiography,  chap.  8,  1. 

31  Autobiography,  chap.  8,  4. 


220         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

erto  my  life  was  my  own ;  my  life,  since  I  began  to  explain 
these  methods  of  prayer,  is  the  life  which  God  lived  in  me, — 
so  it  seems  to  me."  32 

As  she  had  ascribed  her  former  life  to  her  failure  "  to 
lean  on  the  strong  pillar  of  prayer,"  33  so  she  found  the  secret 
of  her  later  life  in  the  resumption  of  prayer.  "  Prayer  is 
the  door  to  those  great  graces  which  our  Lord  bestowed  upon 
me."  34  Of  course  she  always  prayed,  but  in  a  perfunctory 
and  servile  way.  "  The  days  that  passed  over  without  my 
spending  a  great  part  of  them  in  prayer  were  few."  35  It 
was,  however,  only  the  ordinary  customary  vocal  prayer 
neutralized  by  her  worldly  affections.36 

After  she  had  given  herself  wholly  to  God,  "  trusting  in 
His  Majesty  "  alone  and  "  thoroughly  distrusting  "  herself, 
she  began  a  new  way  of  prayer,  which  in  distinction  from 
"  vocal  "  she  calls  "  mental  "  prayer.37  She  defines  it  as 
"  nothing  else  but  being  on  terms  of  friendship  with  God, 
frequently  conversing  in  secret  with  Him  who,  we  know, 
loves  us."  Prayer  now  became  for  her  spontaneous,  irresist- 
ible, the  joy  of  her  life.  "  I  understood  perfectly  well  that 
what  had  happened  wTas  something  supernatural,  because  at 
times  I  was  unable  to  withstand  it;  to  have  it  when  I  would 
was  impossible."  38 

The  beginning  of  her  conversion,  i.  e.,  her  advance  from 
one  stage  of  prayer  to  another,  and  the  time  when  she  began 
to  mend  her  ways  and  "  grow  better,"  was  an  experience  she 
had  one  day  in  the  oratory.39  She  saw  a  picture  of  the 
wounded  and  suffering  Christ.     She  was  overcome  by  the 

32  Autobiography,  chap.  23,   1. 
zz  Autobiography,  chap.  8,  1. 

34  Autobiography,  chap.  8,   13. 

35  Autobiography,  chap.  8,  3. 
30  Autobiography,  chap.  8,  2. 

37  Autobiography,  chap.   8,   5. 

38  Autobiography,  chap.  23,  5. 

39  1555,  Bouix. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        221 

thought  of  what  He  had  suffered  for  her  and  of  the  evil 
return  she  had  made  for  those  wounds.  She  threw  herself 
on  the  ground  weeping  and  imploring  Him  to  strengthen  her 
once  for  all  so  that  she  might  never  offend  Him  again.40 
By  this  prostration  before  the  picture  she  made  "  greater 
progress "  than  ever  before.  "  I  have  grown  better  ever 
since." 

She  was,  also,  inspired  to  new  life  by  reading  the  Confes- 
sions of  Augustine.  "  When  I  came  to  his  conversion,  and 
read  how  he  heard  that  voice  in  the  garden,  it  seemed  to 
me  nothing  less  than  that  our  Lord  had  uttered  it  for  me. 
I  felt  so  in  my  heart.  I  remained  for  some  time  lost  in 
tears,  in  great  inward  affliction  and  distress."  41  She  now 
gave  herself  in  a  special  way  to  prayer.  "  His  Majesty  be- 
gan to  give  me  most  frequently  the  grace  of  the  prayer  of 
quiet  and  very  often  that  of  union."  42 

Her  conversion,  begun  in  her  prostration  before  the  picture 
of  the  suffering  Savior  in  the  oratory,  was  consummated 
one  day  when  she  was  reciting  the  hymn  Vent  Creator.  "  I 
fell  into  a  trance  —  so  suddenly,  that  I  was  as  it  were  carried 
out  of  myself."  "  This  was  the  first  time  our  Lord  be- 
stowed upon  me  the  grace  of  ecstasy.  I  heard  these  words: 
I  will  not  have  thee  converse  with  men  but  with  angels."  43 
After  this  she  alludes  to  the  suddenness  of  the  changes  in  her 
life.  "  From  that  day  forth  [the  time  of  the  trance]  I  have 
had  courage  so  great  as  to  leave  all  things  for  God  who  in 
one  moment  was  pleased  to  change  His  servant  into  another 
person." 44  "  Our  Lord  raised  me  in  four  months  to  a 
greater  height  than  I  have  reached  in  seventeen  years." 

40  Autobiography,  chap.  9,  1. 

41  Autobiography,  chap.  9,  9. 

42  Autobiography,  chap.  23,  2. 

43  Autobiography,  chap.  24,  7. 
^Autobiography,  chap.  24,  8. 


222         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

III 

The  primary  cause  as  well  as  effect  of  her  new  life  was 
prayer  —  prayer  of  an  extraordinary  kind.  Of  this  she  had 
foretastes  in  her  early  days  in  the  monastery.  Before  she 
was  twenty  years  old  she  resolved  to  follow  the  prayer  of 
recollection  described  in  Francisco's  Abecedario.  She  was 
then  already  raised  "  to  the  prayer  of  quiet  and  occasionally 
to  that  of  union,  though  I  understood  not  what  either  one 
or  the  other  was."  45  What  in  her  youth  happened  at  long 
intervals  now  came  frequently.  The  intermissions  of  world- 
liness  and  frivolity  ceased  and  she  now  lived  constantly  in 
the  power  and  the  joy  of  prayer.  "  The  joy  and  sweetness 
which  I  felt  were  so  great,  and  very  often  beyond  the  power 
to  avoid."  Withal  she  felt  herself  growing  "  better  and 
stronger."  46 

At  first  she  was  alarmed  and  perplexed  by  her  spiritual  ex- 
periences which  were  beyond  her  control.  She  feared  that 
she  was  either  self-deceived  or  deluded  of  the  devil.  She 
consulted  a  number  of  spiritual  advisers.  They  differed  in 
their  judgment  of  her  case.  Two  of  them  agreed  that  she 
was  deceived  by  an  evil  spirit  but  urged  her  to  ask  advice  of 
a  certain  father  of  the  Society  of  Jesus.  The  Jesuit  assured 
her  that  she  was  clearly  under  the  guidance  of  the  Spirit  of 
God.  "  He  left  me  consoled  and  fortified."  In  obedience 
to  his  counsel  she  began  to  mortify  her  body,  disciplining  it 
"  even  unto  blood." 47  Both  to  convince  herself  and  her 
directors  that  she  was  not  under  diabolic  influence,  and  to 
show  others,  also,  the  way  of  prayer,  she  wrote  at  the  com- 
mand of  her  spiritual  advisers,  an  account  of  her  life  which  is 
now  known  as  her  Autobiography.** 

45  Autobiography,  chap.  4,  9. 

46  Autobiography,  chap.  23,  2. 

47  Autobiography,  chap.  24,  2. 

49  Autobiography,  chap.  16,  10;  10,  17.  Preface  to  the  Life, 
XXXI;  Relation  VII,  8,  footnote  2. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        223 

In  this  and  later  books  she  proved  herself  a  master  of 
"  descriptive  psychology."  A  recent  author  has  pronounced 
her  writings  "  the  most  complete  and  vivid  description  ever 
penned  of  the  successive  phenomena  of  the  inner  experiences 
of  a  saint.49  She  is  classed  with  the  foremost  writers  of 
Spanish  prose.  Though  she  repeatedly  disclaims  any  '  learn- 
ing,' her  literary  productions  are  proof  of  native  intellectual 
and  religious  genius  of  the  highest  order." 

IV 

The  mysticism  of  St.  Theresa  consists  in  her  life  of  prayer 
which  she  divides  into  four  stages  or  degrees  —  the  prayer 
of  meditation,  the  prayer  of  quiet  or  recollection,  the  prayer 
of  union,  the  prayer  of  rapture  or  ecstasy.  These  degrees 
correspond  in  the  main  to  the  third,  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth 
mansions  in  The  Interior  Castle.  The  seventh  mansion  is  a 
stage  above  the  four  degrees  and  symbolizes  the  marriage  of 
the  soul  with  God.  Her  prayer  was  attended  by  the  phen- 
omena which  are  common  in  mystics  in  all  ages  and  lands 
such  as  insensibility,  ecstasy,  rapture,  vision,  locutions,  levi- 
tations,  and  flight  of  the  spirit.  Of  these  we  shall  say  more 
later  on. 

The  degrees  of  prayer  are  not  based  upon  the  quantity  or 
quality  of  revelation  but  upon  the  psychological  effects  of 
the  revelation  upon  the  body  and  soul  of  the  saint.  Nor 
do  the  degrees  always  indicate  progressive  stages  in  the 
way  of  spiritual  and  moral  perfection.  They  are  merely 
varieties  of  psychological  experiences  without  relative  supe- 
riority of  one  over  the  other.50 

Two  forms  of  spiritual  experience  underlie  the  four  de- 

49  Hastings'  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  Art.  Mysticism, 
p.  98. 

50  "  All  this  tends  to  show  that  it  is  safest  to  regard  St.  Theresa's 
original  four  degrees  as  psychological  varieties  which  are  not  al- 
ways successive  stages  nor  always  signs  of  definite  degrees  of  per- 
fection."    Hastings'  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  IX,  p.  99. 


224  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

grees  of  prayer.  The  first  is  the  result  of  human  effort  — 
thought,  meditation,  diligence,  and  "  comes  with  a  noise." 
The  second  is  a  gift  freely  bestowed  of  the  Lord  at  His 
pleasure  without  any  effort  on  man's  part.  We  cannot  tell 
whence  and  how  it  comes.  She  explains  these  experiences 
and  their  mode  of  operation  by  an  illustration  taken  from 
flowing  water,  her  favorite  comparison  "  for  explaining 
spiritual  subjects."  51 

The  first  experience  is  like  a  cistern  filled  with  water  led 
through  pipes  from  a  spring  at  a  distance.  It  may  be  skill- 
fully done  but  the  water  none  the  less  flows  with  certain 
amount  of  noise  and  in  spurts.  The  second  experience  is 
like  a  cistern  that  is  filled  by  a  spring  at  the  bottom,  the 
water  running  slowly  and  quietly  to  the  top  and  overflowing, 
without  effort  on  the  part  of  any  one.  Pipes  are  needless 
and  the  water  never  fails.  The  source  is  God  and  the  power 
by  which  it  flows  is  God.52 

In  the  former  experience  man  is  active  in  meditation, 
recollection,  and  resolute  fixing  of  the  mind  upon  God. 
Divine  blessings  are  conditioned  by  man's  diligence.  In  the 
latter  experience  man  is  passive  and  receptive;  God  appre- 
hends him  when  and  where  and  how  He  wills.  It  is  of 
His  great  mercy  that  we  receive  His  revelations  and  con- 
solations. This  reminds  one  of  Luther's  experience  of  the 
sufficiency  of  divine  grace  alone. 

In  the  Autobiography  53  the  figure  of  water  is  used  in  a 
different  way  to  illustrate  the  nature  of  the  four  degrees  of 
prayer.  There  are  four  ways  of  watering  a  garden :  first, 
by  drawing  water  out  of  a  well  "  which  is  very  laborious  " ; 
second,  by  raising  water  out  of  the  well  with  the  aid  of 
"  engine  and  bucket  drawn  by  a  windless.  It  is  a  less  trouble- 
some way  than  the  first  and  gives  more  water  ";  third,  by  a 

51  Interior  Castle,  p.  81. 
^Interior  Castle,  pp.  81,  82. 
63  1,  II,  in. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        225 

stream  or  a  brook,  whereby  the  garden  is  watered  in  a  much 
better  way  — "  for  the  soil  is  more  thoroughly  saturated, 
and  there  is  no  necessity  to  water  it  so  often,  and  the  labor 
of  the  gardener  is  much  less  " ;  fourth,  by  a  shower  of  rain, 
"  when  our  Lord  Himself  waters  it  without  labor  on  our 
part,  and  this  way  is  incomparably  better  than  all  the  others 
of  which  I  have  spoken." 

These  four  ways  of  watering  a  garden,  which  symbolizes 
the  soul,  represent  varying  degrees  of  man's  activity  in  the 
attainment  of  God's  blessings.  From  one  degree  to  the 
other  man  becomes  more  and  more  inactive  until  in  the  fourth 
the  work  is  done  wholly  by  God. 

Let  us  now  consider  the  characteristics  of  the  four  de- 
grees of  prayer. 

1.  The  Prayer  of  Meditation.  This  is  the  stage  of  "be- 
ginners in  prayer."  54  "  They  are  those  who  draw  the  water 
up  out  of  the  well."  One  must  separate  himself  from  the  dis- 
tractions of  the  world  that  come  through  seeing  and  hear- 
ing. He  must  fix  his  attention  on  God  and  dwell  in  solitude. 
St.  Theresa  speaks  of  beginners  "  practising  the  presence  of 
God."  By  this  is  meant  the  direction  of  acts  of  love  to 
His  Sacred  Humanity,  and  remaining  in  His  presence  con- 
tinually, speaking  to  Him,  praying  to  Him  in  necessities  and 
complaining  to  Him  in  troubles,  being  merry  with  Him  in 
joys  and  not  forgetting  Him  because  of  joys.  All  this  one 
may  do  without  set  prayers,  but  rather  with  words,  befitting 
our  desires  and  needs.55 

There  will  be  seasons  of  aridity,  when  we  seek  to  draw 
water  from  the  well  and  find  it  empty.  God  will  send  tor- 
ments and  permit  temptations  to  try  those  who  love  Him. 
There  will  be  times  when  we  are  not  able  to  engage  in  prayer. 
Then  we  should  turn  to  "  exterior  works  of  charity  and 
spiritual  reading."     Even  these  the  soul  cannot  always  do. 

54  Autobiography,  chap,  n,  13. 

55  Autobiography,  chap.  12,  3. 


226         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

The  body  should  be  properly  cared  for  by  recreations  — 
"  holy  ones,  such  as  conversation  or  going  out  into  the 
fields."  56 

Notwithstanding  these  obstacles  and  apparent  failures, 
which  God  permits  for  a  good  purpose,  beginners  are  to  per- 
sist in  their  efforts  toward  holiness.  "  We  must  renew  our 
strength  to  serve  Him,  and  strive  not  to  be  ungrateful  be- 
cause it  is  on  this  condition  that  our  Lord  dispenses  His 
treasures."  57 

2.  The  Prayer  of  Quiet  or  Recollection.58  This  is  like  the 
drawing  of  water  out  of  the  well  with  the  aid  of  a  windlass 
and  bucket  with  less  labor  than  in  the  first  degree  and  with 
intervals  of  rest  and  quiet.  "  The  soul  is  now  touching  on 
the  supernatural  —  for  it  never  could  by  any  efforts  attain 
to  this."  The  wTill  is  wholly  in  unison  writh  God's  will. 
Without  knowing  it,  it  "  consents  to  become  a  prisoner  of 
God."  The  other  faculties,  the  understanding  and  the 
memory,  may  help  the  will  and  "  render  it  capable  of  the 
fruition  of  so  great  a  good."  They  may,  however,  become 
distracted  and  "  hinder  the  will  very  much."  59 

The  consolations  of  God  come  with  but  slight  labor;  and 
prayer,  even  if  persisted  in  for  a  long  time,  is  never  weari- 
some. The  tears  which  flow  are  tears  of  joy  and  are  not 
the  result  of  any  effort  of  our  own.  The  virtues  thrive 
much  more  "  beyond  all  comparison,  than  they  did  in  the 
previous  state  of  prayer."  60  Once  the  soul  has  reached  this 
stage,  it  begins  to  lose  the  desire  of  earthly  things,  for  it  sees 
clearly  that  there  are  no  earthly  riches  that  can  for  a  moment 
be  compared  with  the  things  of  the  Spirit. 

The  soul,  also,  has  a  sense  of  the  nearness  of  God.     So 

z&  Autobiography,  chap.   II,  24. 

57  Autobiography,  chap.  10,  8. 

^Autobiography,  chap.  14. 

59  Autobiography,  chap.   14,  4. 

60  Autobiography,  chap.  14,  6. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        227 

near  is  He  "  that  messengers  need  not  be  sent  to  Him,"  but 
one  may  speak  to  Him  directly;  "  and  not  with  a  loud  crying, 
because  so  near  is  He  already,  that  He  understands  even  the 
movement  of  its  lips."  61  In  this  stage,  however,  man  is  not 
yet  wholly  passive,  though  far  less  active  than  in  the  first 
stage.  The  power  of  God  works  in  greater  measure  and 
with  less  resistance  and  more  voluntary  cooperation  on  the 
part  of  man. 

3.  The  Prayer  of  Union.  This  is  like  the  watering  of  a 
garden  by  a  flowing  river  or  brook;  the  water  needs  not  be 
drawn,  only  directed.62  The  Lord  takes  upon  Himself  "  the 
work  of  the  gardener  refusing  to  let  the  soul  undergo  any 
labor  whatever."  It  takes  its  ease,  consenting  to  the  grace 
of  God.  The  soul  has  completely  abandoned  itself  to  God. 
While  the  will  is  abiding  in  peaceful  union,  "  the  under- 
standing and  memory  are  so  free  that  they  can  be  employed  in 
affairs  and  be  occupied  in  works  of  charity." 63  In  the 
prayer  of  quiet,  the  second  degree,  the  soul  which  would 
willingly  neither  stir  nor  move,  is  delighting  in  the  holy  re- 
pose of  Mary;  but  in  this  prayer,  the  prayer  of  union,  the 
soul  can  be  like  Martha  also.  Thus  it  may  live  the  active 
and  contemplative  life  at  once,  and  be  able  to  attend  to  deeds 
of  mercy  and  the  affairs  of  its  state  and  to  spiritual  reading.64 
What  the  soul  has  tried  to  bring  about  by  fatiguing  the  un- 
derstanding for  twenty  years  and  failed,  God  accomplishes  in 
an  instant.  The  virtues,  also,  are  now  stronger  than  ever 
before.  The  pleasure  and  sweetness  are  incomparably  greater 
than  in  the  former  state.  St.  Theresa  uses  terms  like  the 
following  to  express  her  sense  of  delight:  "beside  myself," 
"  drunk  with  love,"  "  heavenly  madness."  65 

61  Autobiography,  chap.  14,  7. 

62  Autobiography,  chap.  16. 
^Autobiography,  chap.  17,  5. 

64  Autobiography,  chap.  17,  6.    Relations,  VIII,  6. 

65  Autobiography,  chap.  16,  3,  8. 


228         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

4.  The  Prayer  of  Rapture  or  Ecstasy.66  In  this  state, 
which  rarely  lasts  more  than  a  half  hour,  body  and  soul  are 
passive.  How  the  ecstasy  is  effected  the  Saint  cannot  tell. 
It  is  the  experience  of  Paul  (II  Cor.  12:  2-3)  who  knew  not 
whether  he  was  in  the  body  or  out  of  the  body.  The  soul 
is  wholly  insensible  to  its  surroundings.  There  is  "  only 
fruition,  without  understanding  what  that  is  the  fruition 
of  which  is  granted,"  though  "  it  is  understood  that  the  frui- 
tion is  of  a  certain  good  containing  in  itself  all  good  together 
at  once."  "  The  senses  are  so  occupied  that  not  one  of  them 
is  at  liberty,  so  as  to  be  able  to  attend  to  anything  else, 
whether  outward  or  inward."  Body  and  soul  feel  them- 
selves penetrated  with  a  sweet  holy  pain  as  of  the  most  fear- 
ful heat  or  of  the  highest  degree  of  weakness  or  of  a  sense  of 
choking.  Yet,  withal,  there  is  a  powerful  uplift  of  the 
spirit  which  gives  the  body  an  ethereal  feeling.  The  soul, 
however,  even  if  it  wished,  cannot  make  known  its  feelings. 

After  one  recovers  from  the  ecstasy,  there  remains  "  an 
exceedingly  great  tenderness  "  in  the  soul.  It  is  possessed 
"  of  so  much  courage,  that  if  it  were  now  hewn  in  pieces  for 
God,  it  would  be  a  great  consolation  to  it."  This  is  the 
time  "  of  heroic  determinations,  of  the  living  energy  of  good 
desires,  of  the  beginning  of  hatred  of  the  world,  and  of  the 
most  clear  perceptions  of  its  vanity."6' 

In  The  Interior  Castle,  written  fifteen  years  after  the 
Autobiography,  St.  Theresa  describes  a  state  higher  than 
that  of  the  fourth  degree  of  prayer.  The  beginning  of  it 
was  a  vision  of  the  Most  Sacred  Humanity.  He  appeared 
to  her,  after  she  had  communicated,  in  "  a  figure  of  great 
splendor  just  as  He  was  after  His  resurrection."  He  said 
to  her:  "  Now  was  the  time  she  should  consider  His  affairs 
as  hers  and  that  He  would  take  care  of  hers."  This  was 
the  consummation  of  the  "  spiritual  nuptials."     "  As  great  is 

66  Autobiography,  chap.  18. 
^Autobiography,  chap.   19,  2. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        229 

the  difference  between  the  spiritual  espousals  and  the  spirit- 
ual marriage  as  there  is  between  those  who  are  affianced  and 
those  who  are  really  united  in  matrimony."  c8 

The  effect  of  this  union  is  felt  in  the  body  and  the  soul. 
"  The  body  is  no  more  remembered  than  if  the  soul  were 
out  of  it."  69  The  Lord  appears  in  the  center  of  the  soul 
and  is  seen  not  by  the  bodily  eye  but  by  intellectual  vision. 
Thus  He  appeared  to  the  apostles,  without  entering  in  at 
the  door,70  when  He  said  to  them:  "  Pax  vobis."  Even  the 
persons  of  the  Holy  Trinity  discovered  themselves  to  her. 
God  and  the  soul  can  now  no  more  be  separated ;  they  blend 
as  water  from  heaven  flowing  into  a  river  or  spring. 

Three  effects  are  clearly  marked:  1.  Forgetfulness  of 
self,  so  that  one  truly  seems  no  longer  to  exist;  2.  A  great 
desire  for  suffering  and  joy  in  persecution ;  3 :  Desire  to  serve 
Him  and  to  benefit  some  soul;  the  cessation  of  all  raptures, 
except  at  rare  intervals.  There  are  no  more  ecstasies  or 
flights  of  the  spirit.71 

In  this  state  St.  Theresa  discovered  that  the  psycholog- 
ical effects,  which  had  reached  their  culmination  in  ecstasy, 
ceased  or  at  least  greatly  diminished ;  and  that  she  could  expe- 
rience even  higher  communications  than  before  without  any 
suspension  of  the  bodily  faculties ;  nay  more,  that  the  peace 
of  "  quiet  "  or  "  union  "  was  no  longer  needed,  for  she  could 
be  conscious  of  mystical  light  and  of  the  Trinity,72  while 
giving  her  mind  fully  to  necessary  occupations.73 

Her  sane  and  practical  view  of  the  religious  life  is  sum- 
marized when  she  said:     "  Believe  me,  Martha  and  Mary 

68  Interior  Castle,  p.  210. 

69  Interior  Castle,  p.  211. 

70  Interior  Castle,  p.  211. 

71  Interior  Castle,  pp.  217-221. 

72  "  The  imaginary  visions  have  ceased  but  the  intellectual  vision 
of  the  Three  Persons  and  the  Sacred  Humanity  seems  ever  present, 
and  that,  I  believe  is  a  vision  of  a  much  higher  kind."  Revelation 
XI,  3. 

73  Hastings,  Encyclopedia  of  Religion  and  Ethics,  IX,  p.  98. 


230         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

must  go  together  in  entertaining  our  Lord  and  in  order  to 
have  Him  always  with  us,  we  must  treat  Him  well  and  pro- 
vide food  for  Him,"  and  "  His  food  is  that  we  should  strive 
in  every  possible  way  that  souls  may  be  saved,  and  may 
praise  Him."  74 

V 

Her  prayer  was  accompanied  by  strange  and  varied  mysti- 
cal phenomena.  Of  these  she  speaks  in  the  Autobiography 
and  especially  in  the  Relations  of  Her  Spiritual  State.  She 
had  her  first  rapture  when  she  was  repeating  the  Veni 
Creator  in  the  oratory.75  "  I  fell  into  a  trance  so  suddenly 
that  I  was,  as  it  were,  carried  .out  of  myself."  In  that  con- 
dition breathing  and  all  bodily  strength  failed.  The  hands 
could  not  be  moved  without  great  pain.  The  eyes  closed 
involuntarily,  and  if  they  opened  they  saw  nothing.  The 
ears  heard,  but  what  was  heard  could  not  be  comprehended. 
It  was  useless  to  speak  because  it  was  not  possible  to  conceive 
a  word.76  Different  names  are  given  to  the  same  experience. 
Rapture,  transport,  flight  of  the  spirit,  and  trance  she  con- 
sidered the  same  thing  as  ecstasy.77 

She  had  numerous  visions,  bright  and  dark.  She  beheld 
Jesus  frequently,  both  beside  her  and  within  her,  the  Holy 
Trinity,  the  Mother  of  God  descending  from  heaven,  a 
soul  in  a  state  of  grace,  truth  itself  and  how  all  things  are 
in  God.  At  one  time  she  saw  hell  and  the  horrors  of  a  lost 
soul.  The  devil  and  his  emissaries  appeared  in  frightful 
forms  to  disturb  her  devotions. 

Occasionally  things  heavenly  appeared  in  a  gross  and  almost 
repulsive  way.  One  day  while  at  prayer  Jesus  showed  her 
His  hands  of  indescribable  beauty,  afterwards  His  face,  and 

74  The  Interior  Castle,  p.  229. 

75  Autobiography,  chap.  24,  6,  7. 

76  Autobiography,  chap.   18,   14. 

77  Autobiography,  chap.  18,  14. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA       231 

finally  His  Most  Sacred  Humanity.  At  another  time  He 
placed  a  ring,  with  a  stone  set  in  it  like  amethyst,  upon  her 
finger.78  Again,  an  angel  appeared  to  her  with  a  golden 
dart  tipped  with  fire  which  he  thrust  into  her  bowels,  draw- 
ing them  out  after  it.  This  was  followed  by  the  feeling 
of  a  sweet  agony  of  love  to  God.  Once  when  she  was  par- 
taking of  the  Holy  Communion  the  host  in  her  mouth  dripped 
with  blood  and  her  whole  face  and  body  seemed  to  be  covered 
with  it.79  Instances  of  a  similar  kind  could  be  multiplied, 
but  those  mentioned  suffice  to  indicate  the  character  of  her 
experiences. 

She  repeatedly  emphasizes  the  fact  that  what  she  saw  and 
heard  came  not  through  the  eye  and  ear  of  the  body.  They 
were  interior  voices  and  visions.80  At  times,  however,  if 
we  may  judge  by  her  descriptions,  the  interior  experiences 
came  close  to  external  realities.  "  It  is  the  essence  of  mysti- 
cism," says  Vaughan,  "  to  confound  an  internal  creation  or 
process  with  some  external  manifestation."  81 

The  saving  feature  in  St.  Theresa  was  that  she  did  not 
overestimate  the  value  of  visions  and  locutions.  "  I  know 
well  that  holiness  does  not  lie  herein  "  82  [in  raptures,  reve- 
lations, and  visions].  They  may  be  necessary  for  begin- 
ners and  "  for  poor  women,  such  as  I  am,  weak  and  infirm 
of  purpose."  But  she  expresses  her  "  disgust  "  for  servants 
of  God  who  are  men  of  weight,  learning  and  sense,  and  yet 
make  much  account  of  God  giving  them  sweetness  in  devo- 
tion.83 "  They  ought  to  understand  that  they  have  no  need 
of  it  and  be  masters  of  themselves  when  they  have  it  not." 
True  union  with  God,  which  she  so  much  desired,  she  did  not 
await  through  raptures.     They  may  indicate  union  if,  when 

78  Relations  IX,  25. 
™  Relations  IV,  5. 

80  Relations  VIII. 

81  Hours  With  the  Mystics,  London,  1880,  Vol.  2,  p.  57. 

82  Book  of  Foundations,  chap.  4,  §  8. 

83  Autobiography,  chap.  11,  21. 


232         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

they  are  over,  they  are  followed  by  obedience ;  "  but  if,  after 
raptures  there  ensues  but  scanty  obedience,  and  self-will  re- 
mains, this  latter  as  it  seems  to  me,  will  be  joined  to  self-love 
and  not  to  the  will  of  God."  84  In  this  respect  she  agreed 
with  the  masters  of  the  spiritual  life  in  all  ages.  They,  as  a 
rule,  attach  little  importance  to  visions  or  at  best  they  ap- 
peared to  them  only  as  aids  to  faith.  St.  Bonaventura  said 
of  them:  "  They  neither  make  nor  show  one  holy;  else 
Balaam  would  have  been  holy;  and  the  ass  which  saw  an 
angel."  85  It  would  not  be  true,  however,  to  the  facts  of  ex- 
perience to  deny  all  value  to  visions.  Professor  James  says: 
'  The  great  Spanish  mystics,  who  carried  the  habit  of  ecs- 
tasy as  far  as  it  has  often  been  carried,  appear  for  the  most 
part  to  have  shown  indomitable  spirit  and  energy,  and  all  the 
more  so  for  the  trances  in  which  they  indulged."  86 

VI 

The  difficult  question,  how  to  account  for  the  mystical 
experiences  of  St.  Theresa,  remains  to  be  considered.  They 
may  be  explained  in  several  ways, —  as  a  delusion  of  an  evil 
spirit,  as  self-deception  or  hallucination,  as  pious  fraud,  an 
attempt  to  deceive  others  but  with  good  intentions,  as  a 
direct  work  of  God,  as  the  result  of  pathological  conditions, 
disordered  nerves,  "  suggested  and  imitated  hypnoid  states, 
on  an  intellectual  basis  of  superstitution  or  a  corporeal  one 
of  degeneration  and  hysteria."  87 

Two  of  her  contemporaries,  Juan  De  Avila  and  Fra 
Domingo  Banes,  wrote  cautious  and  discriminating  reviews  of 
her  Autobiography.     They  were  convinced  that  "  she  is  not 

84  Book  of  Foundations,  chap.  V,  §  14. 

85  "  Nee  facunt  sanctum  nee  ostendunt;  alioquin  Balaam  sanctus 
esset ;   et  asina   quae  vidit  ancjelum." 

80  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  N.  Y.  and  London, 
1903,  p.  418. 

87  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  N.  Y.  and  London, 
1903,  p.  413. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        233 

a  deceiver."  They  were  slow  to  accept  the  reality  of  locu- 
tions and  visions  and  admonished  men  not  to  seek  them.  Yet, 
at  the  same  time,  they  admit  that  God  has  granted  such  bless- 
ings to  saints  in  the  past  and  that  one  must  distinguish  the 
genuine  from  the  counterfeit.  Both  conclude  that,  in  view 
of  her  goodness,  her  truthfulness,  her  obedience,  mortifica- 
tion, patience  and  charity  toward  her  persecutors,  the  visions 
and  revelations  of  St.  Theresa  are  to  be  accepted  as  having 
come  from  God. 

In  our  age,  when  we  are  wont  to  account  for  phenomena 
through  the  forces  of  heredity  and  environment,  i.  e.,  his- 
torically and  psychologically,  none  of  the  theories  above 
named  satisfies  us.  Direct  action  of  God,  delusion  of  Satan, 
self-deception,  shattered  nerves  do  not  adequately  explain 
all  the  effects  which  were  wrought  in  her  life.  We  shall 
have  to  interpret  these  in  the  light  of  tradition,  surround- 
ings, and  personal  characteristics. 

Religion  in  its  earliest  form  was  the  outcome  of  man's 
reaction  toward  the  universe  as  a  whole.  There  were  two 
factors  in  religion,  the  objective  and  the  subjective,  later 
called  the  divine  and  the  human.  Reduced  to  their  lowest 
terms  they  may  be  described  as  mystery  and  emotion.  Man 
felt  impelled  to  express  the  emotion  and  to  define  the  mystery 
in  such  language  as  he  could  command.  He  had  to  speak  in 
parables  and  his  earliest  social  relations  furnished  symbols  for 
the  interpretation  of  his  religious  experience.  The  great 
unknown  Prophet  cried:  "  To  whom  will  ye  liken  God,  or 
what  likeness  will  ye  compare  unto  Him?"88  To  find 
words  to  fit  facts,  phrases  that  made  clear  his  "  blank  mis- 
givings "  and  "  obstinate  questionings  " —  that  was  the  task 
of  evolving  man. 

With  the  rise  and  spread  of  literature  the  language  of 
religion  became  a  fixed  tradition,  and  the  sons  were  prone  to 
voice  their  faith,  the  substance  of  mystery  and  emotion,  in 

88  Isaiah  40: 18. 


234         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

the  words  of  the  fathers.  Oral  and  written  tradition  became 
an  additional  factor  in  the  formation  of  religious  thought 
and  life.  The  prophet  was  followed  by  the  priest  and  the 
scribe.  True,  men  as  always  felt  the  impact  of  the  universe 
and  responded  to  it,  but  they  no  longer  explained  the  mystery 
or  voiced  the  emotion  in  their  own  original  way  but  cast  them 
into  prescribed  formulas  and  rituals.  This  naturally  resulted 
in  different  religions  among  different  nations,  and  in  varia- 
tions in  type  of  the  same  religion.  The  adherents  propa- 
gated their  beliefs  and  practices  by  word  and  deed,  line  upon 
line  and  precept  upon  precept,  in  ways  of  their  own. 

In  Christianity  there  are  two  main  types  —  the  Catholic 
and  the  Evangelical.  Each  of  these  has  its  varieties  with 
distinctive  doctrines,  cultus,  polity,  and  piety.  In  Catholi- 
cism we  need  but  mention  the  Greek  and  Roman  forms. 
In  each  form  there  are  definite  tendencies,  schools,  orders 
—  the  laymen  and  the  clergy,  the  secular  and  the  regular, 
the  dogmatist,  the  ritualist  and  the  mystic,  differences  due 
to  heredity,  racial  and  individual  genius,  religious  leader- 
ship, degrees  of  culture,  and  environment.  The  varieties 
of  the  same  species  are  naturally  transmitted  by  spoken 
and  written  word,  by  individual  and  corporate  action,  from 
one  generation  to  the  other.  Men,  accordingly,  by  reason  of 
birth,  blood,  caste,  personal  predisposition  come  under  the 
power  of  one  or  the  other  species  of  Catholicism  or  Protest- 
anism.  In  speech  spoken  or  written,  in  act  public  or  private, 
they  are  usually  limited  by  lines  laid  for  them  by  the  founders 
and  the  fathers  of  their  group. 

One  can  readily  trace  the  mystics  extending  from  apostles 
to  counter-reformers.  They  were  a  class  by  themselves 
within  Catholicism,  and  they  have  their  kith  and  kin  in  each 
century.  With  all  their  differences,  they  have  certain  things 
in  common  which  enable  us  to  put  them  in  the  same  group. 
They  speak  the  same  language,  have  the  same  experiences, 
follow  the  same  methods,  and  seek  the  same  end.     Professor 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA       235 

James  cites  four  marks  of  the  mystical  conscious  state, — 
ineffability,  noetic  quality,  transiency,  passivity.  Professor 
Inge  considers  the  following  four  traits  essential  to  mysticism, 
— 1.  the  soul  as  well  as  the  body  can  see  or  perceive;  2.  to 
know  God,  we  must  be  akin  to  God;  3.  without  holiness 
we  cannot  see  God;  4.  our  guide  in  the  upward  path  is 
love.  The  scala  perfectionis  was  generally  divided  into 
three  stages.  The  first  is  called  the  purgative  life;  the  sec- 
ond the  illuminative,  while  the  third  is  the  goal  rather  than 
a  part  of  the  journey  and  is  called  the  unitive  life.89  All 
of  them  methodically  cultivated  the  mood  by  which  they 
hoped  to  attain  the  experimental  union  of  the  individual 
with  God.90  All  recognize  stages  or  degrees  in  the  path  that 
leads  Godward.  In  the  dhyana  of  the  Buddhist  there  are 
11  Four  stages  "  and  beyond  these  three  higher  degrees.  The 
numbers  at  once  suggest  the  four  degrees  of  prayer  and  the 
seven  mansions  of  St.  Theresa.  All  of  them  seek  God  in 
the  inner  life  and  are  never  satisfied  until  they  have  pierced 
through  all  that  is  not  God  and  have  penetrated  to  God  Him- 
self. As  a  rule  they  are  pantheists  and  optimists,  though 
the  use  of  these  philosophic  terms  would  be  strange  to  them. 
"  In  the  mystic  state  we  both  become  one  with  the  Absolute 
and  we  become  aware  of  our  oneness.  This  is  the  everlasting 
and  triumphant  mystical  tradition,  hardly  altered  by  dif- 
ferences of  clime  or  creed."  91 

Against  this  background  of  historical  religion  we  must  view 
the  life  and  mysticism  of  St.  Theresa.  She  was  the  heir  of 
Catholic  traditions  and  of  an  ascetic  and  mystic  type  of  piety. 
These  prevailed  in  Spain,  in  the  city  and  home  into  which  she 
was  born,  in  her  uncle's  house  and  in  the  monastic  school  in 
which  she  was  educated.     From  childhood  she  read  books  on 

89  Inge,  Christian  Mysticism,  Oxford,  1899,  p.  9. 

90  Ecclesiastical  tradition  held  that  the  practice  of  continual  as- 
piration is  the  best  means  of  attaining  pure  prayer  and  "  union 
with  God  without  any  medium." 

91  James,  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  p.  419. 


236         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

martyrs  and  saints,  most,  if  not  all  of  whom,  were  mystics. 

She  was  predisposed  by  nature  to  a  distinctively  religious 
life,  though  she  was  not  without  affections  for  the  vanities 
of  the  world.  Under  the  instructions  of  her  mother  she 
began  "  to  think  seriously  when  she  was  six  or  seven  years 
old."  As  a  child  she  longed  for  a  martyr's  crown,  built  her- 
mitages at  play,  "  wished  to  be  a  nun  but  more  to  be  a  her- 
mit." At  eighteen,  under  the  influence  of  a  prudent  and 
devout  nun,  she  turned  her  mind  to  "  eternal  things  "  and 
read  with  avidity  the  religious  books  of  her  uncle.  The 
habit  of  reading  she  continued  through  life,  and  commends  it 
to  those  who  desire  to  advance  in  the  way  of  perfection.  She 
came  into  close  personal  fellowship  with  the  great  ascetic 
and  mystic,  Peter  of  Alcantara,  whose  manner  of  life  she 
describes  graphically  in  her  Autobiography. 

By  conscious  effort  she  tried  to  attain  certain  forms  of 
prayer,  especially  that  which  was  treated  in  Francisco's 
Tercer  Abecadario.  When  she  was  but  twenty  "  she  spent 
much  time  in  solitude,"  made  a  beginning  in  the  prayer  of 
recollection;  and  the  Lord  gave  her  "the  gift  of  tears." 
Then  already  she  was  raised  "  to  the  prayer  of  quiet  and 
occasionally  to  that  of  union,"  though  "  I  understood  not 
what  either  one  or  the  other  was."  92 

She  had  a  frail  body  and  a  highly  sensitive  soul,  physical 
and  mental  traits  which  made  her  receptive  to  all  kinds  of 
religious  stimuli.  In  her  vain  attempt  for  twenty  years 
"  to  reconcile  God  and  the  world,"  she  reached  a  crisis,  a 
point  of  final  decision,  when  through  a  deep  inward  struggle, 
supported  by  pictures,  books  and  prayers,  she  completely  re- 
nounced the  world  and  gave  herself  wholly  to  God.  The 
new  religious  experience  found  expression  in  visions,  locu- 
tions, raptures,  and  tears  of  sweetness  and  joy. 

She,  also,  had  a  way  of  "  practicing  the  presence  of  God  " 
by  deliberate  effort.     "  I  used  to  labor  to  picture  our  Lord's 
92  Autobiography,  chap.  4,  9. 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA        237 

Humanity  and  I  never  could."  But  in  time  the  effort  was 
crowned  by  vision.  She  "  contrived  to  picture  Christ  as 
within  me."  On  such  occasions  "  a  feeling  of  the  presence  of 
God  would  come  over  me  unexpectedly,  so  that  I  could  no 
more  doubt  either  that  He  was  within  me  and  that  I  was 
wholly  absorbed  in  Him."  She  concentrated  her  attention 
on  "  the  prayer  in  the  garden."  This  she  did  "  for  years, 
nearly  every  night  before  she  fell  asleep." 

The  eager  desire  for  communion  with  God,  the  persistent 
effort  to  reach  Him,  the  condition  of  body  and  soul,  the 
mystical  and  ascetic  traditions  to  which  she  was  heir 
through  books,  institutions,  and  living  men  and  women,  her 
native  genius  which  is  inexplicable  —  these  furnish  sufficient 
ground  for  her  unique  religious  life.  While  she  "  differed 
greatly  from  other  mystics  in  her  estimates  of  the  various 
facts  and  is  the  starting-point  of  a  new  tradition,"  her  orig- 
inality is  not  due  to  the  revelations  she  received  or  to  the 
emotions  she  felt,  but  to  the  unparalelled  mastery  of  the  art 
of  describing  her  religious  states.  The  gift  of  analysis  and 
clear  statement  made  her  the  founder  of  a  new  school  of 
mysticism  which  is  in  high  favor  in  the  Catholic  Church  to 
this  day. 

The  visualizing  of  the  fleeting  images  of  a  highly  stim- 
ulated fancy  and  the  materializing  of  the  figures  which  tramp 
across  the  field  of  consciousness  in  the  day  dreams  of  a  devout 
saint,  are  to  be  expected  in  a  church  and  a  land  where 
pictures  of  Christ,  the  virgin,  and  the  saints,  angels  and 
demons,  confront  the  plastic  mind  of  the  child  on  canvas 
and  in  marble,  on  parchment  and  in  ritual.  Excitable 
natures,  subject  to  nervous  instability  and  bodily  infirmities, 
naturally  express  their  religious  emotions  in  such  tangible 
forms.  This  is  done  spontaneously  and  in  sincerity,  with- 
out thought  of  deception.  It  is  a  psychic  process  controlled 
by  certain  conditions  and  when  these  meet,  the  result  follows 
as  by  necessity.     It  has  value  only  for  him  who  experiences 


238         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

it,  and  then  only  as  it  promotes  the  life  of  faith  and  love. 
//  is  a  mark,  not  so  much  of  a  high  type,  as  of  a  unique 
kind,  of  saintliness. 

Professor  Hermann,  in  The  Communion  of  the  Christian 
with  God,  after  discussing  mysticism  in  general,  asks  whether 
or  not,   it  seeks  God  as  a  Christian  ought   to  seek  Him? 
whether  the  God  whom  the  mystics  believe  they  find  is  the 
living  God  of  our  faith?     He  answers  in  the  negative.     One 
must  put  the  mysticism  of  St.  Theresa  to  this  test.     She,  like 
all  her  kind,  put  aside  "  everything  which  affects  us  from 
without," — nature,   history,   cultus,   doctrine,  even   the  his- 
torical Christ.     All  these  are  simply  means  to  an  end,   at 
most  useful  only  to  produce  the  frame  of  mind   in  which 
God  comes  inwardly  near  us.     St.  Theresa  soared  above  and 
left   behind   the   faculties   of   the  soul,    the   Scriptures,    the 
record  of  Jesus,  and  came  into  immediate  and  rapturous  con- 
tact with   God,   the   Holy  Trinity,   the  Divine   Humanity, 
angels  and  demons.     However  admirable  her  life  may  have 
been,  beneficent  her  deeds,  and  sane  and  sound  her  counsels, 
her  way  of  perfection  is  no  longer  in  harmony  with  the  high- 
est spiritual  and  ethical  views  of  life  or  with  the  ideals  of 
evangelical  piety.     Men   now   do  not  seek  God   by  mystic 
vision,    dogmatic    tradition,    or    the    way    of    ratiocination. 
There  is  a  more  excellent  and  a  less  spectacular  way,  the  way 
of  faith  working  in  love.     When  the  will  conforms  to  the 
purposes  of  a  Christ-like  God,  men  will  see  Him  as  He  is, 
see  Him  always  not  apart  from  nature,  history,  the  historical 
Jesus  and  the  church,  but  in  these  and  through  these;  see 
Him  not  in  tangible  and  visible  forms  but  feel  His  presence 
in  life  that  is  active  in  works  of  faith,  labors  of  love,  and  is 
sustained  by  the  patience  of  hope. 

The  mysticism  of  St.  Theresa  belongs  to  an  age  and  a 
mood  that  are  vitally  related  to  a  view  of  the  world  and 
of  life  which  men  to-day  can  no  longer  hold.  They  are 
not   a   spontaneous    product    of    the    modern    spirit.     They 


MYSTICISM  OF  SAINT  THERESA       239 

belong  to  the  mediaeval  order.  The  modern  man  is  not 
less  religious  and  perchance  equally  mystical,  but  he  seeks 
access  to  God  in  other  ways  and  voices  his  religious  ex- 
periences in  other  words  than  those  used  by  St.  Theresa. 

In  the  preparation  of  this  chapter  the  writer  used  the  following 
books  of  St.  Theresa  in  English  translation: 

St.  Teresa  of  Jesus,  embracing  the  Life,  Relations,  Maxims  and 
Foundations  Written  by  the  Saint,  edited  by  John  J.  Burke,  C.S.P., 
the  Columbia  Press,  New  York,  191 1. 

The  Interior  Castle  of  the  Mansions,  translated  by  the  Rev.  John 
Dalton,  John  J.  McVey,  Philadelphia,  1893. 

The  Book  of  the  Foundations  of  S.  Teresa  of  Jesus,  translated 
from  the  Spanish  by  David  Lewis,  Benziger  Bros.,  New  York. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX 

Rufus  M.  Jones 

George  Fox  was  born  in  1624,  the  same  year  that  Jacob 
Boehme,  the  great  Silesian  mystic,  died.  Fox  had  no  inter- 
est in  the  theosophical  alchemical  interpretations  of  the 
universe  which  were  so  dear  to  Boehme,  but  in  almost  every 
other  way  these  two  Protestant  mystics  were  kindred.  They 
were  both  unlearned  men  —  the  peasant  type  and  not  the 
scholar  type.  They  both  were  born  and  brought  up  in 
narrow  rural,  provincial  surroundings,  having  almost  no 
contact  with  the  great  currents  of  business  and  thought. 
They  both  kept  sheep  and  they  both  learned  the  shoemaker's 
trade.  They  reveal  the  same  general  psychological  traits  of 
personality.  They  were  both  shy,  retiring,  introspective, 
conscientious,  morbidly  inclined  boys.  They  naturally  with- 
drew from  games  and  sports;  they  shunned  fellowship;  they 
were  solitary  and  meditative.  They  lived  in  companionship 
with  the  Bible  and  found  their  real  world  in  the  unseen 
rather  than  in  the  seen.  They  were  both  of  unstable  psy- 
chical disposition  —  the  type  that  hears  voices  and  sees  sights 
which  are  not  there  for  other  people.  They  were  both 
acutely  sensitive  to  suggestion.  Certain  ideas  burst  into  their 
consciousness  with  explosive  force,  and,  as  they  could  not 
trace  them  to  any  external  source  in  the  world  of  men,  they 
were  convinced  that  these  ideas  were  "  communicated  "  to 
them.  They  both  passed  through  a  momentous  crisis-experi- 
ence which  inaugurated  a  new  era  for  their  lives,  from  which 
event  they  began  to  interpret  to  the  world  the  revelation 
which  they  had  received.     Of  course  they  both  suffered  from 

240 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX       241 

pitiless  persecution,  since  that  was  a  feature  of  life  which 
any  prophet  anywhere  at  that  stage  of  history  was  bound 
to  undergo. 

Even  more  striking  is  the  parallelism  in  their  fundamental 
interpretation  of  Christianity.  They  both  radically  revolted 
from  the  dominant  theology  of  the  Reformation  —  in  one 
case  the  Lutheran  and  in  the  other  case  the  Calvinistic. 
They  felt  about  these  vast  theological  systems  as  the  great 
Hebrew  prophets  felt  about  sacrifice,  or  as  St.  Paul  felt 
about  the  "  law,"  or  as  Luther  felt  about  "  works,"  or  as 
the  Puritans  felt  about  illicit  survivals  of  superstition.  They 
looked  upon  them  as  "  substitutes  "  for  real  Christianity  — 
"  mental  idols,"  Boehme  calls  them.  These  systems  seemed 
to  both  these  mystics  ways  of  securing  "  salvation  "  without 
the  necessity  of  going  through  any  spiritual  process,  without 
real  change  of  nature  and  transformation  of  life.  Salvation 
for  them  both  was  first  and  always  a  vital  process.  "  A 
Christian,"  Boehme  says,  "  is  a  new  creature  in  the  ground 
of  the  heart;  "  x  "  The  Kingdom  of  God  is  not  from  without, 
but  it  is  a  new  man,  who  lives  in  love,  in  patience,  in  hope, 
in  faith,  and  in  the  cross  of  Jesus  Christ."  Fox,  in  the 
same  general  vein  and  in  his  vivid  style  says,  "  As  I  was 
walking  in  Mansfield,  the  Lord  said  unto  me,  That  which 
people  trample  upon  must  be  thy  food.  And  as  the  Lord 
spoke,  He  opened  it  to  me  that  people  trampled  upon  the 
life,  even  the  life  of  Christ;  they  fed  upon  words  and  fed 
one  another  with  words ;  but  they  trampled  upon  the  life ; 
trampled  under  foot  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God,  which 
blood  was  my  life,  and  lived  in  their  airy  notions,  talking 
of  Him."  2 

They  both  thought  of  Christ  primarily  as  an  inward 
revelation.     They   did   not   spiritualize    the   historical    facts 

1  Mysterium  Magnum,  LXX,  40  Fourth  Epistle. 

2  Journal,  I,  p.  20.  Compare  Isaiah's  phrase  "  Tramping  the 
Temple." 


242         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

of  the  gospel  nor  minimize  the  importance  of  the  incarna- 
tion. But  they  refused  to  consider  that  Christ  came,  in  his 
historical  manifestation,  to  found  a  Church  or  to  inaugurate 
a  scheme  of  salvation  or  to  furnish  men  with  a  magical 
theological  doctrine.  He  was  then,  and  always  is,  a  revela- 
tion of  God.  He  can  no  more  be  turned  into  an  institu- 
tion or  a  scheme  or  a  system,  than  poetry  can  be  turned 
into  a  theory  of  poetry,  or  than  music  can  be  turned  into  a 
mathematical  sj'stem  of  acoustics,  or  than  love  can  be  caught 
and  turned  over  into  a  chapter  of  psychology.  Christ  is  for 
them  both  a  living  reality,  a  vital  fact,  a  real  presence. 
The  reality,  the  fact,  the  presence  must  no  doubt  be  inter- 
preted in  the  light  of  the  gospel,  in  terms  of  the  incarna- 
tion, but  nothing  must  be  a  substitute  for  Him,  here  and 
now.  No  verbal  form,  constructed  by  "  opinion-peddlers," 
no  S3rstem  which  the  modern  "  Babel-builders  "  have  erected 
in  the  hope  of  reaching  heaven,  no  "  letter-scheme,"  formu- 
lated by  "  titular  Christians,"  must  be  allowed  to  deprive 
us  of  the  unspeakable  privilege  of  direct  and  immediate 
relation  with  Christ,  who  is  here  now  as  surely  as  He  was 
in  Galilee  when  Peter  and  John  found  Him.  The  Christ 
who  was  born  of  Mary  must  be  born  anew  in  our  hearts, 
is  their  persistent  message.  "  This  birth,"  Boehme  says, 
must  be  wrought  within  the  person  himself.  "  The  Son 
of  God  must  arise  in  the  birth  of  your  life,  and  then  you 
are  in  Christ  and  He  is  in  you,  and  all  that  He  and  the 
Father  have  is  yours."  3  "  They  were  discoursing  of  the 
blood  of  Christ,"  Fox  says  of  "  professors  "  at  Mansfield, 
°  and  as  they  were  discoursing  of  it,  I  saw  through  the 
immediate  opening  (or  revelation)  of  the  Invisible  Spirit,  the 
blood  of  Christ.  And  I  cried  out  among  them,  and  said, 
1  Do  ye  not  see  the  blood  of  Christ.  See  it  in  your  hearts, 
to  sprinkle  your  hearts  and  consciences  from  dead  works  to 
serve  the  living  God.'     For  I  saw  it,  the  blood  of  the  New 

3  Boehrae's  Three  Principles  IV,  9. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX       243 

Covenant,  how  it  came  into  the  heart."  4     This  inward  ex- 
perience, this  inmost  birth,  this  reliving  of  Christ  — "  going 
through   Christ's  whole   journey   and   entering  wholly   into 
His  process"  as  Boehme  puts  it — is  absolutely  essential  to 
the  Christianity  of  both  these  prophets  of  the  common  people. 
They  both  represent  a  peculiar  branch  of  the  Reforma- 
tion   movement.     They   are   not   an   outcome   positively   or 
negatively  of   Lutheranism   or   Calvinism.     They   are  both 
vigorous    interpreters    and    prophets    of    another    type    of 
Christianity  which  is  not  a  product  developed  from  the  main 
current  of  the  Reformation.     Their  spiritual  ancestors  are 
to  be  found  among  the  martyrs  and  lonely  messengers  of  a 
new  way,  who  were  contemporaries  of  Luther  and  Calvin, 
who  were  convinced  that  a  more  radical  Reformation  was 
needed,  whose  sympathies  were  with  the  people  rather  than 
with   the   rulers   or  the  nobility,   who  thought  of   religion 
primarily  as  experience  and  not  as  doctrine,  who  were  tired 
of   ecclesiasticism   and  wanted   to   bring  men  to  the  living 
Christ,  who  were  determined  not  to  patch  up  and  revamp 
the  old  Church  but  instead  to  restore  and  revive  primitive, 
apostolic   Christianity.     The   most   striking   and    influential 
figures  in   this  group  were   Hans   Denck    (1495-1527)    of 
Bavaria,  a  humanist,  a  mystic,  an  eager  reformer,  a  friend 
of  the  people;  Sebastian  Franck  (1499-1542)  of  Schwabia, 
also  a  humanist,  a  mystic,  a  historian,  a  radical  reformer; 
Caspar  Schwenckfeld  (1489-1561)  of  Silesia,  one  of  the  first 
scholars  of  his  time,   a  spiritual  prophet  of  high  order,  a 
man  dedicated  to  the  task  of  restoring  apostolic  Christianity ; 
Sebastian    Castellio    (15 15-1563)    of    Switzerland,    though 
born  in  France,  a  humanist,  a  co-laborer  of  Calvin's  and 
later   an   opponent,   a  great   defender   of   spiritual   freedom, 
a    tragic    sufferer    for     truth,     a    forceful     interpreter    of 
Christianity  as  a  way  of  life.     These  men  and  their  fellow- 
laborers  and  successors  and  the  little  groups  of  seekers  which 

4  Journal,  I,  p.  24. 


244         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

were  formed  under  their  guidance  or  under  the  influence 
of  their  little  books,  supplied  the  main  ideas  that  are  found 
in  the  interpretation  of  Christianity  as  given  both  by  Boehme 
and  Fox. 

Jacob  Boehme  diligently  read  and  pondered  the  writings  of 
Theophrastus  Paracelsus  and  Valentine  Weigel.  Through 
them  he  was  led  to  believe  that  the  secret  of  the  universe, 
the  mystery  of  darkness  and  evil  and  the  way  of  light  and 
life  might  be  found  within  the  soul  of  man  by  the  aid  of  a 
mighty  divine  illumination.  In  the  year  1600  such  an  il- 
lumination burst  in  as  a  "  flash  "  upon  the  soul  of  Boehme. 
His  eye  fell  by  chance  upon  the  surface  of  a  polished  pewter 
dish  which  reflected  the  bright  sunlight,  when  suddenly  he 
felt  himself  environed  and  penetrated  by  the  Light  of  God, 
and  admitted  into  the  innermost  ground  and  center  of  the 
universe.  His  experience,  instead  of  waning  as  he  came  back 
to  normal  consciousness,  on  the  contrary  deepened.  He  wTent 
to  the  public  green  in  Gorlitz,  near  his  house,  and  there  it 
seemed  to  him  that  he  could  see  into  the  very  heart  and 
secret  of  Nature,  and  that  he  could  behold  the  innermost 
properties  of  things.  In  his  own  account  of  his  experience, 
Boehme  plainly  indicates  that  he  had  been  going  through  a 
long  and  earnest  travail  of  soul  as  a  Seeker,  ''striving  to 
find  the  heart  of  Jesus  Christ  and  to  be  freed  and  delivered 
from  everything  that  turned  him  away  from  Christ."  At 
last,  he  says,  he  resolved  to  "  put  his  life  to  the  utmost 
hazard  "  rather  than  miss  his  life-quest,  when  suddenly  the 
"gate  was  opened."  He  continues  his  account  as  follows: 
"  In  one  quarter  of  an  hour  I  saw  and  knew  more  than 
if  I  had  been  many  years  together  in  a  University.  ...  I 
saw  and  knew  the  Being  of  Beings,  the  Byss  and  Abyss,  the 
eternal  generation  of  the  Trinity,  the  origin  and  descent  of 
this  world,  and  of  all  creatures  through  Divine  Wisdom.  I 
knew   and   saw   in   myself   all   the   three  worlds  —  1 )    the 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX       245 

Divine,  Angelical,  or  Paradisaical  World;  2)  the  dark  world, 
the  origin  of  fire;  and  3)  the  external,  visible  world  as  an 
out-breathing  or  expression  of  the  internal  and  spiritual 
worlds.  I  saw,  too,  the  essential  nature  of  evil  and  of  good, 
and  how  the  pregnant  Mother  —  the  eternal  genetrix  — 
brought  them  forth." 

He  has  also  vividly  told  his  experience  in  the  Aurora: 
"  While  I  was  in  affliction  and  trouble,  I  elevated  my  spirit, 
and  earnestly  raised  it  up  unto  God,  as  with  a  great  stress 
and  onset  lifting  up  my  whole  heart  and  mind  and  will 
and  resolution  to  wrestle  with  the  love  and  mercy  of  God 
and  not  to  give  over  unless  He  blessed  me  —  then  the  Spirit 
did  break  through.  When  in  my  resolved  zeal  I  made  such 
an  assault,  storm,  and  onset  upon  God  as  if  I  had  more 
reserves  of  virtue  and  power  ready,  with  a  resolution  to 
hazard  my  life  upon  it,  suddenly  my  spirit  did  break  through 
the  Gate,  not  without  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 
and  I  reached  the  innermost  Birth  of  the  Deity  and  there 
I  was  embraced  with  love  as  a  bridegroom  embraces  his 
bride.  My  triumphing  can  be  compared  to  nothing,  but  the 
experience  in  which  life  is  generated  in  the  midst  of  death 
or  like  the  resurrection  from  the  dead.  In  this  Light  my 
spirit  suddenly  saw  through  all;  and  in  all  created  things, 
even  in  herbs  and  grass,  I  knew  God  —  who  He  is,  how  He 
is,  and  what  His  will  is  —  and  suddenly  in  that  Light  my  will 
was  set  upon  by  a  mighty  impulse  to  describe  the  being  of 
God." 

Other  experiences  of  a  similar  type  came  to  him  at  later 
periods.  He  became  a  voluminous  writer,  often  writing 
under  what  seemed  to  him  immediate  guidance,  and  ex- 
pounding through  his  books —  in  spite  of  his  barbaric  termin- 
ology and  his  tedious  repetitions  —  a  truly  marvelous  way 
of  life,  one  of  the  most  marvelous  that  any  unlearned  man 
in  the  Protestant  era  has  given.     His  books  were  all  trans- 


246         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

lated  into  English  by  his  admirers  between  the  years  1646 
and  1 66 1.  They  profoundly  influenced  John  Milton,5 
Sir  Isaac  Newton,  and,  at  a  later  date,  William  Law,  but 
their  most  important  influence  is  to  be  found  in  the  popular 
religious  movement  of  the  commonwealth  period  (1640- 
1660).  The  ideas  and  spiritual  aims  which  worked  like 
leaven  in  the  groups  and  mystical  societies  in  that  dynamic 
epoch  do  not  by  any  means  all  emerge  from  Boehme.  They 
came  to  England  from  the  continent  by  many  devious  routes 
and  over  many  strange  bridges,  but  they  wTere  unmistak- 
ably set  into  motion  by  the  men  and  the  groups  to  whom  I 
have  referred,  and  Boehme  was  probably,  through  his  trans- 
lations, the  most  effective  single  force. 

Nobody  before  1648  had  succeeded  in  organizing  any  large 
society  of  persons  to  express,  interpret  and  propagate  these 
ideas  of  the  spiritual  reformers.  The  anabaptists  who  rep- 
resented one  branch  of  the  movement  had  been  numerous 
in  many  parts  of  Europe,  but  they  had  been  more  or  less 
fluid  and  chaotic.  They  exhibited  a  tendency  rather  than 
an  organization.  They  had  been  of  many  types  and  varieties. 
Groups  of  them  gathered  around  individual  leaders  who  had 
their  own  peculiar  traits  and  teachings.  They  did  not  and 
could  not  mass  their  forces.  In  any  case,  they  were  piti- 
lessly martyred  and  in  many  parts  of  the  world  annihilated, 
though  the  movement  eventually  became  the  parent  of  power- 
ful and  impressive  modern  churches.  The  Schwenckfelders 
formed  a  small  society  of  devoted  followers  of  the  Silesian 
reformer.  In  Holland  and  England  there  were  large 
numbers  of  Seekers  more  or  less  grouped  in  semi-organized 
societies,  called  in  Holland  "  Collegiants."  The  Friends, 
or  Quakers,  are  however  the  first  people  to  form  a  large 
and  successful  society  of  the  distinct  type  which  the  mystics 
and  spiritual  reformers  of  the  preceding  one  hundred  years 

5  See  Margaret  L.  Bailey's  Milton  and  Jacob  Boehme.  Ameri- 
can Branch  of  the  Oxford  Press,  New  York,  1914. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX       247 

hoped  for  and  worked  for.  This  Society  owed  its  existence 
primarily  to  George  Fox  (1624-1691),  who  is  the  best 
known  and  the  most  successful  of  the  long  line  of  spiritual 
reformers  of  this  common  group. 

He  was  an  intensely  moral  and  religious  youth  — "  I 
had,"  he  says,  "  a  gravity  and  stayedness  of  mind  and  spirit 
not  usual  in  children."  6  "  Boys  and  rude  people  "  laughed 
at  him,  but  "  people  generally  "  had  respect  for  his  "  in- 
nocency  and  honesty."  William  Penn  says  of  him  in  his 
youth:  "From  a  child  he  appeared  of  another  frame  of 
mind  than  the  rest  of  his  brethren."  7  He  was  evidently  pure- 
minded  as  a  boy  and  not  oppressed  by  a  sense  of  his  own  sin 
— "  When  I  was  eleven  years  of  age,"  he  says,  "  I  knew  pure- 
ness  and  righteousness."  8  When  he  was  nineteen,  a  pro- 
found change  came  over  him.  He  became  weighed  down 
and  oppressed  under  a  tremendous  sense  of  wickedness 
in  the  world  and  an  almost  overwhelming  conviction  that 
Christians  "  professed  "  something  which  they  did  not  in 
reality  possess.  This  disturbing  discovery  swept  over  Fox 
at  a  definite  moment  and  was  occasioned  by  a  peculiar  cir- 
cumstance, but  the  trivial  incident  merely  served  as  a  focus- 
point  to  bring  into  consciousness  deep-lying  processes  which 
had  been  for  some  time  dimly  present  in  him.9  "  I  did  not 
go  to  bed  that  night,  nor  could  I  sleep,  but  sometimes  walked 
up  and  down  and  sometimes  prayed  and  cried  unto  the 
Lord."  The  entire  ground  of  disturbance  is  not  his  own  sin, 
as  was  the  case  with  Bunyan,  but  the  vanity  and  insincerity 
of  life,  the  large  degree  of  sham,  in  the  world  around  him, 
and  he  heard,  as  though  through  an  audition,  the  com- 
mand, "  Thou  must  forsake  all,  both  young  and  old,  and 
keep  out  of  all  and  be  as  a  stranger  unto  all."     Therefore 

6  Journal  I,  p.  2. 

7  Journal  I,  Preface  p.  xliv. 

8  Journal  I,  p.  3. 

9  Journal  I,  p.  3. 


248         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

he  broke  off  all  normal  fellowship  with  society,  closed  up  his 
business  occupation  and  started  out  as  a  lonely  wanderer 
across  the  world.  Wherever  he  heard  of  anybody  who  was 
likely  to  be  of  spiritual  help  to  him,  he  visited  him,  but  all 
helpers  failed  him.  They  proved  to  be  "  miserable  com- 
forters," "  empty  hollow  casks,"  "  broken  cisterns,"  "  pro- 
fessors without  possession,"  and  one  and  all  unable,  in  his 
own  words,  "  to  speak  to  my  condition."  The  poor  youth 
was  evidently  in  a  pitiable  state  of  depression.  He  describes 
himself  as  in  "  great  sorrow  and  troubles,"  walking  alone 
many  nights,  drifting  along  from  town  to  town,  often  tempted 
to  despair  utterly,  finding  the  so-called  religious  guides  "  all 
dark  and  under  the  chain  of  darkness."  His  physical  con- 
dition was  ominous  and  his  own  account  reveals  plain  evi- 
dences of  abnormal  nervous  disturbance.  An  attempt  was 
made  by  medical  advisers  to  try  the  usual  remedy  of  the  time, 
i.  e.,  to  bleed  him.  "  But  they  could  not  get  one  drop  of 
blood  from  me,"  he  says,  "  either  in  arms  or  head,  my  body 
being  as  it  were  dried  up  with  sorrows,  griefs,  and 
troubles."10  A  little  later  (in  1647)  a  still  more  profound 
disturbance  occurred.  "  A  great  work  of  the  Lord  fell 
upon  me,"  according  to  his  own  account,  "  to  the  admira- 
tion [i.  e.,  wonder]  of  many,  who  thought  I  had  been  dead: 
and  many  came  to  see  me  for  about  fourteen  days.  I  was 
very  much  altered  in  countenance  and  person,  as  if  my  body 
had  been  new  molded  or  changed."  He  adds  that  in  this 
state  he  could  discern  the  inner  condition  of  people  and  more 
or  less  read  their  thoughts.11 

During  this  critical  period  of  wandering  and  search,  Fox 
was  evidently  not  as  random  and  aimless  as  his  account 
written  much  later  would  imply.  He  was  almost  certainly 
finding  bands  of  dissenting  people  in  the  midlands  who  put 

10  Journal  I,  p.  6. 

11  Journal  I,  pp.  20-21.     Fox's  Journal  shows  many  instances  of 
''telepathy. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX       249 

him  on  track  of  fresh  light.     He  met  with  "  tender  people," 
he   became   acquainted   with    a   remarkable   woman   named 
Elizabeth  Hooton;  he  read  his  Bible  until  he  almost  knew 
it  by  heart  and  he  began  to  have  new  impressions,  or  "  open- 
ings "    as   he   called    his   experiences.     These   were   sudden 
flashes  of  insight  which  seemed  to  burst  into  his  conscious- 
ness as  revelations.     He  implies  that  they  came  as  "  audi- 
tions "  though  he  may  only  mean  that  these  things  came 
inwardly  and  vividly  to  his  consciousness.     In  any  case,  the 
"  openings  "  brought  the  presentation  of  truths  and  insights 
which  were  current  among  the  small  mystical  groups  and  in 
the  writings  of  the  spiritual  reformers.     They  were  truths 
like   the   following:     "Only   those  who  are   born   of   God 
and   have   passed   from   death   to   life   are   true  believers " ; 
"  Being  bred  at  Oxford  or  Cambridge  is  not  enough  to  fit 
and  qualify  men  to  be  ministers  of   Christ  " ;   "  God   who 
made   the  world    does   not   dwell   in   temples,   or   buildings 
made  with   hands."     "  The   Scriptures   can   be   understood 
only  through   the  help   of  the   Spirit  who   gave  forth   the 
Scriptures."     These  ideas  were  all  essential  principles  of  the 
spiritual  groups  spoken  of  above.     Finally,  after  two  years 
of  eager  search,  Fox  had  an  experience  not  unlike  that  which 
marked  the  crisis  in   Boehme's  life.     I   give  it  in  his  own 
words:     "As    I    had    forsaken    the   priests,    so    I    left    the 
separate   preachers   also,    and   those   esteemed   the   most   ex- 
perienced people ;  for  I  saw  there  was  none  among  them  all 
that  could  speak  to  my  condition.     When  all  my  hopes  in 
them  and  in  all  men  were  gone,  so  that  I  had  nothing  out- 
wardly to  help  me,  nor  could  I  tell  what  to  do;  then  O! 
then  I  heard  a  voice  which  said,  '  There  is  one,  even  Jesus 
Christ,  that  can  speak  to  thy  condition  ' ;  and  when  I  heard 
it,  my  heart  did  leap  for  joy.     Then  the  Lord  let  me  see 
why  there  was  none  upon  the  earth  that  could  speak  to  my 
condition,    namely,   that    I    might   give   him   all   the   glory; 
for  all  are  concluded  under  sin,  and  shut  up  in  unbelief, 


250         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

as  I  had  been,  that  Jesus  Christ  might  have  the  preeminence, 
who  enlightens,  and  gives  grace,  and  faith,  and  power. 
Thus  when  God  doth  work,  who  shall  hinder  it?  and  this 
I  knew  experimentally."  12  This  constructive,  illuminating 
and  unifying  experience  marks  an  epoch  in  Fox's  life.  He 
now  felt  that  he  had  the  key  to  the  mysteries  of  life  in  his 
own  hand.  He  found  in  himself  the  way  which  he  had 
sought  in  vain  in  books  or  creeds  or  systems.  "  Inward  life," 
he  says,  "  sprang  up  in  me."  The  strain  and  perplexities 
were  not  entirely  over.  He  did  not  by  a  sheer  leap  emerge 
upon  a  table  land.  His  months  were  full  of  travail,  but 
he  had  at  least  settled  the  main  point,  namely  that  there 
is  an  immediate  revelation  of  God,  through  the  Spirit  or 
living  Christ  operating  within  the  soul  of  man.  "  I  saw 
that  all  was  done  through  Christ  the  Life."  13  Fresh  in- 
sights and  comforting  bursts  of  light  continued  to  come  to 
him — "  great  openings,"  as  he  calls  them.  None  were  more 
striking  than  the  one  in  which  he  saw  Light  and  Love 
triumphant:  "  I  saw  that  there  was  an  ocean  of  darkness 
and  death ;  but  an  infinite  ocean  of  Light  and  Love,  which 
flowed  over  the  ocean  of  darkness.  In  that  I  saw  the  in- 
finite Love  of  God."  14  Nothing  could  be  finer  than  that 
and  it  gave  Fox  through  all  his  sufferings  and  difficulties 
an  underlying  optimism,  so  that,  as  he  puts  it,  "  when  at  any 
time  my  condition  was  veiled,  my  secret  belief  was  stayed 
firm,  and  hope  underneath  held  me,  as  an  anchor  in  the 
bottom  of  the  sea." 

Another  impressive  "  opening "  came  to  him  apparently 
in  the  year  1648.  His  account  of  it  is  couched  more  in  the 
style  of  Boehme  than  is  that  of  any  of  his  other  experiences, 
and  "  the  new  smell "  of  creation  is  an  extremely  vivid 
feature:     "  Now  was  I  come  up  in  Spirit  through  the  flam- 

12  Journal   I,  p.  11. 

13  Journal   I,  p.  14. 

14  Journal   I,  p.  19. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX       251 

ing  sword,  into  the  paradise  of  God.  All  things  were  new; 
and  all  the  creation  gave  another  smell  unto  me  than  before, 
beyond  what  words  can  utter.  I  knew  nothing  but  pure- 
ness,  and  innocency,  and  righteousness,  being  renewed  into 
the  image  of  God  by  Christ  Jesus,  to  the  state  of  Adam, 
which  he  was  in  before  he  fell.  The  creation  was  opened 
to  me;  and  it  was  showed  me  how  all  things  had  their 
names  given  them,  according  to  their  nature  and  virtue. 
I  was  at  a  stand  in  my  mind,  whether  I  should  practice 
physic  for  the  good  of  mankind,  seeing  the  nature  and  virtues 
of  things  were  so  opened  to  me  by  the  Lord.  But  I  was 
immediately  taken  up  in  Spirit,  to  see  into  another  or  more 
steadfast  state  than  Adam's  innocency,  even  into  a  state 
in  Christ  Jesus,  that  should  never  fall.  And  the  Lord 
showed  me  that  such  as  were  faithful  to  him,  in  the  power 
and  light  of  Christ,  should  come  up  into  that  state  in  which 
Adam  was  before  he  fell;  in  which  the  admirable  works  of 
creation,  and  the  virtues  thereof,  may  be  known,  through 
the  openings  of  that  divine  Word  of  wisdom  and  power,  by 
which  they  were  made."  15  He  proceeds  to  say,  very  much 
after  the  manner  of  Boehme,  that  he  came  to  "  know  the 
hidden  unity  in  the  Eternal  Being,"  "  through  the  Word  of 
Wisdom  [Boehme's  '  Sophia  ']  that  opens  all  things."  16 

In  his  early  period,  which  was  a  period  of  visions  and  rap- 
tures and  enthusiasm,  Fox  felt  that  he  could  read  the  inner 
life  and  spirit  of  the  people  around  him  somewhat  as  sensi- 
tive mystics  of  the  Middle  Ages  felt  that  they  could  catch 
an  odor  of  sanctity  from  those  who  were  really-truly  saints 
while  they  got  a  miserable  stench  from  those  who  concealed 
hidden  sins  —  so  that  in  some  towns  they  had  to  hold  their 
noses  as  they  walked  through  the  streets!  Fox  says  the  Lord 
showed  him  the  natures  which  were  hurtful  within,  in  the 
hearts  and  minds  of  wicked  men  — "  the  natures  of  dogs, 

15  Journal  I,  p.  28. 

16  Journal  I,  p.  29. 


252         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

swine,  vipers  of  Sodom  and  Egypt,  Pharaoh,  Cain,  Ishmael, 
Esau,  etc."  Though  these  typical  natures  of  evil  were  not 
present  in  his  own  heart,  he  was  given  a  vivid  "  sense  "  of 
them  in  others,  so  that  he  might  "  speak  to  the  condition  " 
of  those  who  had  such  inner  natures."  17  It  is  interesting 
to  find  that  Jacob  Boehme  makes  much  of  these  same  typical 
inner  natures.  "  A  man's  soul,"  he  says,  "  is  sometimes  like 
a  wolf,  sometimes  like  a  dog,  sometimes  like  a  lion,  some- 
times like  a  serpent  —  subtle,  venomous  and  slanderous, 
sometimes  like  a  toad  —  poisonous."  Not  only  so,  but 
Boehme  further  says  at  undue  length  that  men's  souls  are 
inwardly  and  figuratively  like  Sodom  and  Egypt  and 
Babylon,  like  Cain,  Ishmael  and  Esau.  In  fact  every  per- 
son and  country  mentioned  in  the  Bible  is  reproduced  as  a 
"  state  "  within  men's  lives.18 

Among  the  most  beautiful  of  Fox's  "  openings  "  are  his 
first  hand  experiences  of  the  love  of  God.  "  As  I  was  walk- 
ing toward  the  jail  [in  Coventry],"  he  says,  "the  word  of 
the  Lord  came  to  me,  saying,  '  My  love  was  always  to  thee, 
and  thou  art  in  my  Love.'  And  I  was  ravished  with  the 
sense  of  the  Love  of  God,  and  greatly  strengthened  in  my 
inward  man."  19  Of  another  experience  he  says,  "  One  day 
when  I  had  been  walking  solitarily  abroad  and  was  come 
home  I  was  wrapped  [he  plainly  meant  '  rapt  'J  up  in  the 
Love  of  God  so  that  I  could  not  but  admire  [i.e.,  wonder  at] 
the  greatness  of  His  Love." 20  Again  something  like  an 
audition  came  to  him  when  he  was  walking  in  the  fields, 
where  he  seems  to  have  felt  himself  especially  close  to  the 
sources  of  life:  "  On  a  certain  time,  as  I  was  walking  in 
the  fields,  the  Lord  said  unto  me,  '  Thy  name  is  written  in 

17  Journal  I,   p.  19   and  in  various  places. 

18  This  is  worked  out  extensively  in  Boehme's  Mysterium 
Magnum. 

19  Journal  I,  p.  47. 

20  Journal  I,  p.  14.  He  frequently  speaks  of  being  caught  up  in 
"  raptures." 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX      253 

the  Lamb's  book  of  life  which  was  before  the  foundation 
of  the  world  ' ;  and  as  the  Lord  spake  it,  I  believed  and  saw 
it  in  the  new  birth."  21 

However  these  experiences  may  be  psychologically  inter- 
preted, one  fact  seems  very  clear,  from  this  period  onward, 
a  new  power  becomes  evident  in  Fox's  life.  There  were 
still  recurrences  of  nervous  disturbance.  He  was  "  struck 
blind  "  at  Mansfield,  and  he  underwent  at  a  considerably 
later  period  just  before  the  Restoration  another  profound 
travail  of  spirit  and  a  marked  physical  alteration.22  But 
on  the  whole  there  now  occurred  a  striking  unification  of 
personality  in  him.  He  became  possessed  with  a  sense  of 
mission.  He  was  sure  of  his  call  — "  I  was  commanded  to 
turn  people  to  that  inward  Light,  Spirit,  and  Grace,  by 
which  all  might  know  their  salvation  and  their  way  to 
God."  23  He  had  become  meantime  absolutely  unafraid  and 
fearless.  When  an  enraged  man  on  the  island  of  Walney 
brandished  his  pistol  and  called  for  Fox  to  come  out,  the 
latter  walked  straight  up  toward  the  cocked  pistol  without 
the  least  fear.24  When  a  "  reputed  conjurer  "  in  Derby  jail 
proposed  to  do  dreadful  things  to  him  and  threatened  to  raise 
the  devil  and  break  the  house  down,  Fox  was  "  moved  of  the 
Lord  "  to  say  to  him,  "  Come  let  us  see  what  thou  canst 
do;  do  thy  worst  now."  We  are  not  surprised  to  hear  that 
11  the  power  of  the  Lord  chained  the  devil-raiser  down,  so 
he  slunk  away  from  me."  25  Two  or  three  times  opponents 
declared  that  they  could  not  endure  the  power  of  his  eyes. 
"  Do  not  pierce  me  so  with  thy  eyes;  keep  thy  eyes  off  me,"  26 
one  man  cried  out  when  Fox  gazed  intently  at  him.  "  A 
high  notionist  "  in  Carlisle  came  up  and  asked  him,  "  what 

21  Journal   I,  p.  35. 

22  Journal   I,  pp.  24  and  447. 

23  Journal  I,  p.  36. 

24  Journal   I,  p.  134. 

25  Journal  I,  p.  72. 

26  Journal   I,  p.  167. 


254  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

must  be  damned?  "  "  I  was  moved  immediately  to  tell  him: 
1  That  which  spoke  in  him  was  to  be  damned.'  "  27  The 
rabble  of  Cambridge  students  set  upon  him  when  he  rode 
into  their  town  in  1655,  but  he  was  fully  their  match.  "  Ye 
schollors  was  uppe  hearinge  of  mee;  and  was  exceedinge 
rude:  but  I  kept  on  my  horse  backe  and  ridd  through  ym. 
in  ye  Lords  power:  Oh  said  they  he  shines  hee  glisters."  2S 
William  Penn's  testimony  on  this  point  of  Fox's  ability  to 
stand  the  universe  and  to  meet  all  types  of  men  is  all  that 
could  be  desired.  He  says:  "  I  write  my  knowledge  and 
not  report,  and  my  witness  is  true,  having  been  with  him 
for  weeks  and  months  together  on  divers  occasions,  and  those 
of  the  nearest  and  most  exercising  nature,  and  that  by  night 
and  by  day,  by  sea  and  by  land,  in  this  and  in  foreign 
countries:  and  I  can  say  I  never  saw  him  out  of  his  place, 
or  not  a  match  for  every  service  or  occasion."  29 

I  have  used  most  of  my  available  space  on  the  experience 
and  personality  of  Fox  and  have  reserved  little  for  a  study 
of  his  interpretations  of  his  principles.  I  have  done  this, 
however,  advisedly.  The  great  thing  after  all  about  George 
Fox  was  his  first  hand  experience  and  the  personality  which 
his  experience  produced  — "  a  new  and  heavenly-minded 
man;  a  divine  and  a  naturalist  and  all  of  God  Almighty's 
making,"  as  William  Penn  declared.30  Others,  especially 
Robert  Barclay,  the  Scotch  Quaker,  gave  an  elaborate 
interpretation  of  the  central  principle  of  Quakerism,  couched 
in  the  terms  of  seventeenth  century  psychology  and  meta- 
physics, but  fortunately  Fox  knew  no  metaphysics,  was 
simple,  natural  and  naive,  and  was  primarily  concerned,  like 
a  plain  man,  "  to  speak  right  on  "  and  tell  what  he  had 
heard  with  his  own  ears,  what  his  eyes  had  seen  and  his 

27  Journal  I,  p.  166. 

28  Journal,  Cambridge  Edition,  I,  p.  190. 

29  Journal,  Preface,   p.  1. 

30  Journal,  Preface,  p.  i. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX      255 

hands  handled  of  the  Word  of  life.  If  he  had  read  Boehme's 
books,  he  at  any  rate  showed  no  interest  in  the  Teutonic  phil- 
osopher's difficult  account  of  the  fundamental  nature  of  the 
visible  and  invisible  universe.  It  seems  almost  certain  that 
Fox  got  his  knowledge  of  Boehme  through  others  and  not 
from  the  writings  of  the  latter.  He  may  very  likely  never 
have  known  the  source  of  the  influences  which  came  to  him. 
One  central  interest  dominates  Fox  and  that  is  the  testimony 
of  the  soul.  William  Penn  has  some  apt  words  on  this 
point.  He  says  that  Fox  was  endued  with  "  clear  and 
wonderful  depth."  "  He  would  go  to  the  marrow  of  things." 
"  The  most  awful,  living  reverent  frame  I  ever  felt  or  be- 
held I  must  say  was  his  in  prayer.  And  truly  it  was  a 
testimony  he  knew  and  lived  nearer  to  the  Lord  than  other 
men."  He  "  bottomed  people,"  Penn  adds,  on  the  principle 
that  there  is  something  of  God  in  themselves.31 

The  mysticism  of  Fox  leaves  wholly  behind  and  on  one 
side  the  long  trail  of  metaphysical  speculation  which  came 
into  mediaeval  mysticism  from  the  Neo-Platonists.  The 
abstract  and  negative  God,  solitary,  above  and  beyond  all 
our  ladders  of  approach  and  to  be  reached  only  through  a 
superhuman  ecstasy  and  "  flight  of  the  alone  to  the  Alone," 
is  nowhere  mentioned  in  Fox.  The  via  negativa  is  not  his 
highway  of  holiness.  He  is  emphatically  an  affirmation 
mystic.  In  his  stress  and  agony  he  found  something  in  his 
own  soul  which  flooded  him  with  fresh  light,  which  poured 
a  new  energy  into  him,  which  restored  and  recreated  him 
and  which  seemed  without  any  further  debate  to  be  some- 
thing of  God  within  him.  He  calls  the  experience  "  the  day- 
star  rising  in  the  heart,"  or  he  says  that  it  is  the  germinating 
seed  of  Christ,  or  he  names  it  the  operation  of  the  Light 
within,  or  it  is  thought  of  as  the  Spirit  working  in  the  cen- 
tral deep  of  man.     Writing  to  his  own  father  and  mother,  in 

31  Journal  I,  Preface,  pp.  xlvi-xlviii. 


256         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

1652,  he  says,  "  to  that  of  God  in  you  both  I  speak  and 
beseech  you  both  to  return  within  and  wait  to  hear  the 
voice  of  God  there."  32 

Fox,  without  altogether  realizing  the  step,  broke  utterly 
with  Augustinian  theology.  He  no  longer  thinks  in  terms 
of  human  depravity.  The  "  man  "  whom  he  knows  best  is 
not  a  mass  of  sin,  foul  and  defiled  from  birth,  unattended 
by  any  divine  splendor  or  untouched  by  any  inner  springs 
of  grace.  He  does  not  feel  that  his  world  is  separated  by 
a  vast  chasm  from  God's  wTorld.  He  believes  rather  that 
man  and  God  are  very  close  companions.  In  fact,  somehow 
—  he  does  not  undertake  to  solve  the  how  —  something  of 
God  is  embedded  in  the  very  structure  of  the  human  soul. 
Barclay,  with  his  Cartesian  metaphysics,  makes  this  divine 
seed  a  thing  wholly  foreign  to  man  himself,  a  seed-particle 
deposited  in  the  otherwise  barren  soil  of  man's  fallen  nature 
and  brought  from  another  world  across  the  chasm  into  this 
one.  Fox  is  innocent  of  this  contrivance.  It  does  not  occur 
to  him  that  the  chasm  is  there.  He  is  impressed  with  the 
principle  of  darkness  in  the  universe.  He  knows  that  evil 
is  an  appalling  fact  and  he  says  much  of  Satan  and  the 
seed  of  the  serpent  which  must  be  bruised.  But  God  for 
him  is  the  supreme  reality  and  He  is  of  such  a  nature 
that  He  is  somehow  unsundered  from  the  soul  whom  He  has 
created.  Something  radiates  out  from  the  life  of  God  and 
shines  into  our  souls  with  illuminating  power  so  that  we  can 
see  ourselves  as  we  are  and  can  draw  upon  the  resources  of 
help  within  our  reach.  "  That  which  shows  a  man  his  sin 
is  the  same  that  takes  it  away."  33  Every  spiritual  step  is 
a  process  of  inward  life.  There  is  no  way  for  a  man  to  be 
saved  apart  from  the  man  himself.  All  that  really  matters 
is  the  discovery  of  power,  the  formation  of  an  attitude, 
conformity  to  the  true  model,  the  construction  of  character 

32  Epistles,  v. 

33  Journal  I,  p.  67. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX       257 

and  habits,  the  creation  of  a  spirit.  "  I  bid  them  give  over 
babbling  about  the  Scriptures,"  Fox  says,  "  I  told  them  not 
to  dispute  about  God  and  Christ  but  to  obey  Him."  34  He 
changes  his  central  interest  from  a  concern  about  getting 
ready  to  die  to  a  profound  concern  about  getting  ready  to 
live.  There  is  nothing  forensic  in  his  Christianity.  He  is 
done  with  "  notions  "  and  schemes.  He  is  endeavoring  to 
launch  a  movement  which  begins  and  ends  with  life,  and 
the  ground  of  his  faith  in  this  life-movement  is  his  confidence 
that  man  has  something  of  God  in  himself  and  can  cor- 
respond with  God,  as  the  eye  does  with  light,  until  the  inner 
life  is  fortified  with  divine  power  and  recreated  in  inward 
purity  and  holiness.  "  Live  in  the  life  of  God,"  he  writes, 
"  and  feel  it."  35  "  Dear  lambs,  and  babes  and  plants  of 
the  Lord  God,"  again  he  says,  "  dwell  every  one  of  you  in 
your  own  [i.  e.,  in  your  own  inner  self]  that  you  may  feel 
the  precious  springs  of  God."  36  In  a  beautiful  Epistle  of 
counsel,  he  reminds  his  friends  that  they  have  tasted  of  "  the 
immediate  working  power  of  the  Lord,"  that  they  have  ex- 
perienced "  an  alteration  "  in  their  minds  and  have  learned 
to  "  see  from  whence  virtue  doth  come,  and  strength  that 
doth  renew  the  inward  man  and  doth  refresh  you."  Even 
"  though  you  see  little  and  know  little,  and  have  little,"  he 
continues,  "  and  you  see  your  emptiness,  and  see  your  naked- 
ness and  barrenness  and  unfruitfulness  and  see  the  hard- 
ness of  your  hearts  and  your  own  unworthiness ;  it  is  the  light 
that  discovers  all  this  and  the  love  of  God  to  you.  So  wait 
upon  God  in  that  which  is  pure,  in  your  measure,  and  stand 
still  in  it  every  one  to  see  your  Savior."  37 

All  this  sounds  naive  and  uncritical.     It  is  what  Fox  him- 
self once  called  "  the  movings  and  bubblings  of  life."     The 

34  Journal  I,  pp.  50-56. 

35  Epistles,  xcv. 

36  Epistles,  Ixxxi. 

37  Epistles,  xvi. 


258         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

best  test  of  its  religious  value  is  found  in  the  type  of  person- 
ality which  the  experience  produced  in  Fox  himself  and  its 
dynamic  power  in  the  Society  which  he  founded.  He  had 
little  education  and,  as  Penn  puts  it,  "  the  side  of  his  under- 
standing which  lay  next  to  the  world  "  was  untrained  and 
undeveloped  and  yet  he  plainly  bore  "  the  marks  of  God's 
finger  and  hand."  There  was  an  extraordinary  interior  depth 
within  him,  a  moral  quality  of  a  rare  order,  an  unusual 
power  of  penetration  into  the  heart  of  social  problems,  a 
great  capacity  of  leadership  and  what  Penn  well  calls  "  a  re- 
ligious majesty  "  which  "  visibly  clothed  him  with  a  divine 
preference  and  authority."  He  broke  with  all  recognized 
authorities.  He  denied  all  outward  infallibilities  and  yet  he 
kept  his  movement  from  running  into  a  wild  and  lawless 
chaos.  One  of  his  jailers  pronounced  him  "  clear  as  a  bell 
and  stiff  as  a  tree."  He  knew  what  constituted  spiritual  re- 
ligion and  he  stood  unbendingly  for  it.  Persecution  could 
not  weaken  him,  prisons  could  not  break  him,  or  budge  him. 
One  might  truthfully  say  of  him  what  the  present  Master  of 
Balliol  College  (A.  L.  Smith)  said  of  one  of  Fox's  later  fol- 
lowers, Thomas  Hodgkin,  "  I  always  came  away  from  him 
with  higher  thoughts  and  the  feeling  of  having  breathed 
purer  air;  his  walk  with  God  was  so  real.  He  was  one  of 
those  men  who  make  us  feel  that  personality  is  more  real  and 
more  immortal  than  anything  else  in  this  world."  He  pro- 
duced a  religious  fellowship  —  he  called  it  a  Society  and 
not  a  Church  —  with  no  visible  head,  with  no  rigid  system, 
with  no  cramping  official  authority,  with  no  creed,  no  ordin- 
ances, no  ritual.  Exceedingly  individualistic,  free  and  demo- 
cratic, it  nevertheless  held  together  by  its  internal  co- 
herency and  it  has  proved  to  be  the  most  impressive  experi- 
ment in  Christian  history  of  a  group-mysticism,  a  religious 
body  maintaining  corporate  silence  as  the  basis  of  woiship 
and  affirming  for  two  centuries  and  a  half  its  faith  in  spirit- 
guided  ministry.     Its  weakness  has  not  been  its  radicalism 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  GEORGE  FOX      259 

or  its  fanaticism,  but  its  conservatism  and  crystallization.  It 
has  been  much  inclined  to  settle  into  a  dangerous  quietism,  the 
seeds  of  which  lay  hidden  in  the  original  interpretation  of 
its  principle,  but  whenever  strong  social  sympathies  and 
human  interests  have  blended  with  its  inner  passion  for 
God  a  fine  type  of  religious  life  has  flowered  out  and  a 
beautiful  quality  of  sainthood  has  been   realized. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH 
E.  Hershey  Sneath 

Notwithstanding  the  production  of  an  exceptionally  large 
literature  relating  to  Wordsworth's  poetry,  very  few  writers 
have  reckoned  sufficiently  with  his  mysticism  in  its  influence 
upon  his  life  and  art;  neither  has  the  literary  critic  nor  pro- 
fessional psychologist  dealt  thoroughly  with  the  nature  of 
this  unique  mode  of  functioning  of  the  poet's  consciousness. 
And  yet  there  can  be  no  adequate  understanding  of  much  of 
the  poetry  of  Wordsworth  without  a  careful  consideration  of 
this  conspicuous  feature  of  his  personal  psychology.  Those 
refined  spiritual  conceptions  of  Nature  and  her  wholesome 
ministry  to  the  spirit  of  man ;  that  perception  of  the  unity 
of  things,  and  of  the  unity  of  man  under  moral  law;  those 
intimations  of  preexistence  and  immortality,  to  be  found  in 
his  poetry,  are  largely  due  to  the  mystic  flashes  of  his  genius 
and  to  the  more  profound  trance  experiences  that  gave 
warmth  to  it.  And  when  we  eliminate  the  poetry  of  mysti- 
cal insight  from  his  large  body  of  verse,  comparatively  little 
is  left  that  would  entitle  him  to  a  seat  among  the  immortals. 

It  is  fortunate  that  we  are  able  to  deal  with  this  unique 
experience,  to  a  very  large  extent,  first  hand.  '  The  Pre- 
lude," Wordsworth's  elaborate  metrical  autobiography,  "  The 
Excursion,"  "  Lines  Composed  above  Tintern  Abbey," 
"  Ode,  Intimations  of  Immortality,"  and  other  poems  by  the 
author,  are  descriptive  and,  in  a  measure,  explanatory  of 
it.  There  are  also  several  letters  containing  conversations 
of  Wordsworth  which  throw  light  on  the  nature  of  the 
trance  experience  to  which  he  was  subject  in  his  boyhood 

260 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      261 

and  youth,  and  which  largely  determined  his  spiritual  inter- 
pretation of  Nature  and  Man.  With  such  sources  of  in- 
formation at  our  command,  there  is  little  danger  of  going 
astray  in  our  attempts  to  discover  the  real  nature  of  Word- 
worth's  mysticism. 

"  The  Prelude  "  is  Wordsworth's  chief  autobiographical 
poem.  It  is,  as  the  sub-title  suggests,  an  account  of  the 
"  growth  of  a  poet's  mind."  In  it  we  find  a  record  of  ex- 
periences which  leave  no  doubt  in  the  reader's  mind  that 
Wordsworth  was  essentially  a  mystic.  In  the  first  book  he 
relates  three  that  occurred  in  early  boyhood,  which,  while 
not  of  the  trance  order,  were  the  beginnings  of  that  mystical 
apprehension  of  Nature  so  peculiar  to  the  poet.  They  are 
experiences  of  a  moral  character  and  are  interpreted  by 
him  as  Nature's  "  visitations  "  to  his  soul.  The  first  re- 
cites an  adventure  in  trapping  woodcock  by  night.  In  his 
pursuit,  he  stole  a  bird  trapped  by  another.  The  result  was 
that,  under  the  influence  of  a  guilty  conscience,  he  had  an 
immediate  apprehension  of  Nature  as  possessed  of  spirit, 
and  bent  on  punishing  him  for  his  theft: 

"  And  when  the  deed  was  done 
I  heard  among  the  solitary  hills 
Low  breathings  coming  after  me,  and  sounds 
Of  undistinguishable  motion,  steps 
Almost  as  silent  as  the  turf  they  trod."  x 

If  this  were  the  only  case  of  the  kind,  it  might  be  dis- 
missed without  consideration.  But,  when  we  take  it  in  con- 
nection with  similar  cases,  we  will  note  thus  early  in  the 
poet's  experience  a  unique  functioning  of  consciousness  in 
its  relation  to  Nature,  which  later  takes  on  the  form  of  a 
profound  mystical  trance. 

Immediately  following  the  above  account,  Wordsworth  re- 
lates another  case  of  boyish  theft.     He  robs  a  raven's  nest, 

1  The  Prelude,  Bk.  I,  11.  321-325. 


262         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

and  again  he  is  the  subject  of  peculiar  sounds  as  well  as  sights. 
The  sound  of  the  wind  seems  unusual  in  character,  and  the 
clouds  wear  an  unearthly  aspect.  It  is  not  a  boy's  ordinary 
perception  of  Nature.  There  is  something  mysterious  about 
it  —  so  mysterious  that  Wordsworth  many  years  afterward 
regarded  it  as  one  of  Nature's  "  visitings "  in  which  she 
administered  wholesome  moral  discipline.  The  important 
point  is,  that  here  again  consciousness  functions  in  a  peculiar 
manner  —  the  boy  perceives  a  "  strange  utterance  "  in  the 
wind,  an  unusual  aspect  in  the  sky,  and  a  peculiar  move- 
ment in  the  clouds: 

"  Nor  less  when  spring  had  warmed  the  cultured  Vale, 

Moved  we  as  plunderers  where  the  mother-bird 

Had  in  high  places  built  her  lodge;  though  mean 

Our  object  and  inglorious,  yet  the  end 

Was  not  ignoble.     Oh!  when  I  have  hung 

Above   the   raven's  nest,  by  knots   of   grass 

And   half-inch   fissures  in   the   slippery   rock 

But  ill  sustained,  and  almost   (so  it  seemed) 

Suspended  by  the  blast  that  blew   amain, 

Shouldering  the  naked  crag,  oh,  at  that  time 

While  on  the  perilous  ridge  I  hung  alone, 

With  what  strange  utterance  did  the  loud  dry  wind 

Blow  through  my  ear!  the  sky  seemed  not  a  sky 

Of  earth  —  and  with  what  motion  moved  the  clouds!  "  2 

This,  too,  might  be  dismissed  as  merely  the  result  of  the 
activity  of  a  vivid  imagination  under  the  influence  of  peculiar 
excitement;  but  the  narrative  is  followed  by  the  recital  of 
another  incident  which  resulted  in  a  more  pronounced  ex- 
perience of  a  unique  and  most  uncanny  character.  Once 
more  the  boy  is  guilty  of  "  an  act  of  stealth."  He  takes 
a  boat  belonging  to  another,  and,  as  he  rows  on  the  lake, 
under  the  influence  of  fear  and  compunction,  he  becomes  con- 
scious of  a  spirit  in  Nature.  A  huge  black  peak  pursues  him 
"  with  purpose  of  its  own,  and  measured  motion  like  a  living 

2  The  Prelude,  Bk.  I,  11.  326-339- 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH       263 

thing."  For  many  days  afterward  he  has  a  vague  "  sense 
of  unknown  modes  of  being."  Normal  sense-perception  is 
superseded  by  an  abnormal  consciousness.  Familiar  objects 
are  banished,  and  strange  and  mighty  forms  take  their  place 
by  day  and  trouble  him  in  his  dreams  by  night.  This  is 
one  of  Nature's  "  severer  interventions,"  and  the  effect  on 
consciousness  is  unusual  compared  with  what  might  be  ex- 
pected in  the  case  of  the  average  boy  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances : 

"  I  dipped  my  oars  into  the  silent  lake, 
And,   as  I   rose  upon  the  stroke,  my  boat 
Went  heaving  through  the  water  like  a  swan; 
When,  from  behind  that  craggy  steep  till  then 
The  horizon's  bound,  a  huge  peak,  black  and  huge, 
As  if  with  voluntary  power  instinct 
Upreared  its  head.     I  struck  and  struck  again, 
And  growing  still  in  stature  the  grim  shape 
Towered  up  between  me  and  the  stars,  and  still, 
For  so  it  seemed,  with   purpose  of   its  own 
And  measured  motion  like  a  living  thing, 
Strode   after   me.     With   trembling  oars   I   turned, 
And  through  the  silent  water  stole  my  way 
Back  to  the  covert  of  the  willow  tree; 
There  in  her  mooring-place  I  left  my  bark, — 
And  through  the  meadows  homeward  went,  in  grave 
And  serious  mood;  but  after  I  had  seen 
That  spectacle,  for  many  days,  my  brain 
Worked  with   a    dim   and   undetermined   sense 
Of  unknown  modes  of  being;  o'er  my  thoughts 
There  hung  a  darkness,  call  it  solitude 
Or  blank  desertion.     No  familiar  shapes 
Remained,  no  pleasant  images  of  trees, 
Of  sky  or  sea,  no  colors  of   green  fields; 
But  huge  and  mighty  forms,  that  do  not  live 
Like  living  men,  moved  slowly  through  the  mind 
By  day,  and  were  a  trouble  to  my  dreams."  3 

Again  it  may  be  said  that  these  somewhat  singular  mental 
3  The  Prelude,  Bk.  I,   11.   373-400. 


264         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

experiences  —  these  "  images  floating  on  the  moving  deeps  of 
feeling  " —  might  be  dismissed  as  not  indicative  of  a  mystical 
behavior  of  consciousness,  were  they  to  be  considered  in- 
dependently of  subsequent  experience  of  a  far  more  pro- 
nounced mystical  character.  But  one  finds,  as  he  follows 
Wordsworth's  account  of  his  mental  evolution,  these  early 
experiences  were  really  the  beginning  or  dawn  of  a  decidedly 
supernormal  consciousness  that  developed  in  his  intercourse 
with  Nature,  and  which  enabled  him  "  to  see  into  the  life 
of  things,"  as  well  as  into  the  life  of  man.  Often  during 
this  early  period,  in  the  pursuits  of  childhood,  he  says: 

"I  felt 
Gleams  like  the  flashing  of  a  shield;  the  earth 
And  common  face  of  Nature  spoke  to  me 
Rememberable  things."  4 

That  these  were  mystic  gleams  there  will  be  little  doubt 
as  we  follow  him  from  childhood  to  adolescence.  Here  we 
find  the  love  of  solitude  so  characteristic  of  the  mystic.  As 
he  himself  remarks  concerning  his  relations  to  Nature  during 
this  period: 

"  I  was  taught  to  feel,  perhaps  too  much, 
The    self-sufficing    power    of    Solitude." 5 

It  was  during  these  moments,  when  alone  with  Nature, 
that  "  the  visionary  power  "   developed : 

"  for  I  would  walk  alone, 
Under  the  quiet  stars,  and  at  that  time 
Have  felt  whate'er  there  is  of  power  in  sound 
To  breathe  an  elevated  mood,  by  form 
Or  image  unprofaned ;  and  I  would  stand, 
If  the  night  blackened  with  a  coming  storm, 
Beneath  some  rock,  listening  to  notes  that  are 
The  ghostly  language  of  the  ancient  earth, 

*The  Prelude,  Bk.  I,  11.  585-588. 
6  The  Prelude,  Bk.  II,  11.  76-77. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH       265 

Or  make  their  dim  abode  in  distant  winds, 
Thence  did  I  drink  the  visionary  power."  6 

However,  not  only  in  storms,  but  also  in  more  peaceful 
scenes,  does  mystical  consciousness  function.  He  now  feels 
marvelous  things;  he  now  experiences  "a  holy  calm"  that 
inhibits  bodily  sight.  In  these  moments  he  sees,  as  St. 
Theresa  would  say,  with  "  the  eyes  of  the  soul."  In  other 
wTords,  the  trance  consciousness  now  dawns,  and  an  inner 
world  emerges  from  the  depths  of  the  soul.  These 
trance  states  are  frequent  at  this  time.  Often,  on  his  way 
to  school,  as  he  walks  around  Esthwaite  Lake,  he  seats  him- 
self on  some  eminence  to  view  the  peaceful  vale  below. 
Then  the  "  blessed  mood "  takes  possession  of  his  soul. 
Normal  sight  gives  way  to  supersensible  vision.  The  outer 
prospect  is  superseded  by  a  prospect  in  the  mind. 

"  Nor  seldom  did  I  lift  our  cottage  latch 
Far  earlier,  ere  one  smoke-wreath  had  risen 
From  human  dwelling,  or  the  vernal  thrush 
Was  audible;   and  sate  among  the  woods 
Alone  upon   some  jutting  eminence, 
At  the  first  gleam  of   dawn-light,  when  the  Vale, 
Yet  slumbering,   lay  in  utter  solitude. 
How  shall  I  seek  the  origin?  where  find 
Faith  in  the  marvelous  things  which  then  I  felt? 
Oft  in  these  moments  such  a  holy  calm 
Would  overspread  my  soul,  that  bodily  eyes 
Were  utterly  forgotten,  and  what  I  saw 
Appeared  like  something  in  myself,  a  dream, 
A  prospect  in  the  mind."  7 

In  the  description  of  his  experience  at  this  time,  Words- 
worth calls  attention  to  a  contribution  which  his  mind  makes 
to  objects  of  Nature.  Extra-mental  objects  are  invested 
with  a  "  new  splendour,"  which  increases  his  obeisance  for, 
and  devotion  to,  Nature,  and  fills  his  soul  with  ecstatic  joy. 

6  The  Prelude,  Bk.  II,  11.  303-311. 

7  The  Prelude,  Bk.  II,  11.  339-352. 


266         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

This  transfiguration  of  Nature  is  attributed  by  him  to  an  in- 
ternal "  auxiliar  light." 

"  An  auxiliar  light 
Came  from  my  mind,  which  on  the  setting  sun 
Bestowed  new  splendour;   the  melodious  birds, 
The  fluttering  breezes,  fountains  that  run  on 
Murmuring  so  sweetly  in  themselves,  obeyed 
A  like  dominion,  and  the  midnight  storm 
Grew  darker  in  the  presence  of  my  eye: 
Hence  my  obeisance,  my  devotion  hence, 
And  hence  my  transport."  8 

Later,  when  we  consider  Wordsworth's  celebrated  ode  to 
Immortality,  we  will  meet  with  a  more  detailed  description 
of  this  "  vision  splendid  "  due  to  the  "  auxiliar  light." 

One  of  the  marked  tendencies  of  the  mystic  is  an  appre- 
hension or  intuition  of  the  unity  of  things.  So  pronounced 
is  this  perception  of  unity  that  it  frequently  cancels  all  in- 
dividuality or  separateness  of  things,  and  sees  only  the  one- 
ness of  all  Reality.  Mysticism,  whether  philosophic, 
theologic,  religious  or  poetic,  has  been  prolific  of  Pantheism. 
The  apprehension  of  the  unity  of  Being  is  often  so  pro- 
found that  so-called  corporeal  things  and  finite  spirits  are 
submerged  in  "  the  All  "  or  Absolute.  At  this  period  of 
Wordsworth's  career  a  mystical,  unifying  tendency  is  mani- 
fest. He  begins  to  observe  affinities  among  things  that  are 
not  apparent  to  duller  minds.  He  recognizes  a  brotherhood 
among  the  objects  of  Nature.  Things  are  instinct  with  life 
and  happiness,  and,  under  the  influence  of  great  emotion, 
he  perceives  a  cosmic  harmony  —  a  unity  in  the  manifold. 
His  joy  reaches  the  point  of  ecstasy  as  he  communes  with 
all  things  in  earth  and  heaven.  He  hears  them  singing  the 
same  song.  So  profound  is  his  mood  or  trance  that  the  bodily 
ear  is  overcome  by  the  prelude  of  the  strain,  and  he  hears 
with   the  spiritual   ear  a  soul-entrancing  chorus. 

s  The  Prelude,  Bk.  II,   11.  368-376. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      267 

"  Thus  while  the  days  flew  by,  and  years  passed  on, 
From  Nature  and  her  overflowing  soul, 
I  had  received  so  much,  that  all  my  thoughts 
Were  steeped  in  feeling;  I  was  only  then 
Contented,  when  with  bliss  ineffable 
I  felt  the  sentiment  of  Being  spread 
O'er  all  that  moves  and  all  that  seemeth  still; 
O'er  all  that,  lost  beyond  the  reach  of  thought 
And  human  knowledge,  to  the  human  eye 
Invisible,  yet  liveth  to  the  heart; 
O'er  all  that  leaps  and  runs,  and  shouts  and  sings, 
Or  beats  the  gladsome  air;  o'er  all  that  glides 
Beneath  the  wave,  yea,  in  the  wave  itself, 
And  mighty  depth  of  waters.     Wonder  not 
If  high  the  transport,  great  the  joy  I  felt, 
Communing  in  this  sort  through  earth  and  heaven 
With  every  form  of  creature,  as  it  looked 
Towards  the  Uncreated  with  a  countenance 
Of  adoration,  with  an  eye  of  love. 
One  song  they  sang,  and  it  was   audible, 
Most  audible,  then,  when  the  fleshly  ear, 
O'ercome  by  humblest  prelude  of  that  strain, 
Forgot   her   functions,    and   slept   undisturbed." 9 

This  is  a  mystical  intuition  of  the  unity  of  Nature.  "  There 
is  a  synthetic  functioning  of  consciousness,  largely  dominated 
by  feeling,  that  cancels  the  ordinary  perception  of  Nature 
by  the  senses  as  a  world  of  independent  entities  bound  to- 
gether only  by  space  relations,  and  substitutes  for  it  a  world 
of  objects  invested  with  spirit-life,  and  existing  in  spiritual 
relations,  all  constituting  a  harmonious  system,  and  all  ador- 
ing and  loving  the  one  Uncreated  Source  of  Reality.  But 
Wordsworth's  mysticism  does  not  abolish  the  individuality 
of  things  as  philosophical  mysticism  often  does.  It  does  not 
swamp  their  being  in  the  immeasurable  Being  of  the  Infinite. 
It  destroys  merely  the  world  of  uncritical  sense-perception, 
which  is  a  mere  manifold  or  multiplicity  of  corporeal  ob- 
jects, and  by  intuition  lays  hold  of  the  spiritual  reality  of 

9  The  Prelude,  Bk.  II,  11.  396-418. 


268         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

things,  with  their  mutual  spiritual  relations  and  their  re- 
lations to  a  spiritual  Absolute. 

"  Furthermore,  he,  too,  is  part  of  the  world  and  is  in  com- 
munion with  things,  whether  earthly  or  heavenly.  And,  as 
he  listens  to  the  song  of  a  spiritual  universe,  and  his  own 
soul  is  enraptured  with  the  music,  his  mystical  communion, 
though  ecstatic,  is  not  so  profound  as  to  submerge  his  own 
self-consciousness  in  the  Being  of  the  Absolute,  as  is  the  case 
so  often  with  religious  mystics.  The  '  mortal  limits  of  the 
self/  to  use  Tennyson's  expression,  are  not  '  loosed.'  The 
boundary  lines  of  finite  personality  are  not  wiped  out. 
Therefore,  there  is  no  Pantheism  here.  The  distinct  reality 
of  '  the  Uncreated,'  the  reality  of  things,  and  the  reality  of 
self  are  preserved.  Wordsworth's  mystical  mind  has  simply 
apprehended  the  spiritual  nature  and  relations  of  all 
Reality."  10 

If  we  turn  from  The  Prelude  for  a  few  moments  to  The 
Excursion  —  Wordsworth's  most  elaborate  poem  —  and 
compare  the  accounts  of  his  mystical  experiences  in  boyhood 
and  youth  with  the  accounts  of  The  Prelude  given  above, 
we  will  find  an  essential  agreement.  There  can  be  little 
doubt  that  Wordsworth,  in  his  account  of  the  Wanderer 
—  one  of  the  leading  characters  of  The  Excursion  —  is  giv- 
ing an  account  of  himself.  The  experience  of  the 
Wanderer's  boyhood  and  youth  is  that  of  a  mystic.  "  The 
things  he  saw  "  as  a  boy  are  similar  to  those  described  in 
the  early  books  of  The  Prelude  that  refer  to  the  poet's  child- 
hood. They  are  unusual.  They  are  associated  with  Nature. 
They  are  seen  in  solitude.  They  involve  communion  "  not 
from  terror  free."  They  are  powerfully  felt,  and  make  such 
deep  impressions  on  the  mind  as  to  disturb  "  the  bodily 
sense."  They  are  impressions  over  which  he  broods,  nar- 
rowing the  field   of  consciousness,   concentrating  the  mind 

10Sneath,   Wordsworth,  Boston,  1912,  pp.  25-26. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      269 

upon   it,   and   thus  intensifying  the   "  pictured   lines "   until 
'"  they  acquired  the  liveliness  of  dreams." 

11  From  his  sixth  year,  the  Boy  of  whom  I  speak, 
In   summer,   tended   cattle   on   the   hills; 
But,  through  the  inclement  and  the  perilous  days 
Of    long-continuing   winter,   he    repaired, 
Equipped   with  satchel,   to   a   school,   that  stood 
Sole  building  on  a  mountain's  dreary  edge, 
Remote  from  view  of  city  spire,  or  sound 
Of  minster  clock!     From  that  bleak  tenement 
He,  many  an  evening,  to  his  distant  home 
In  solitude  returning,  saw  the  hills 
Grow  larger  in  the  darkness;  all  alone 
Beheld  the  stars  come  out  above  his  head, 
And  travelled  through  the  wood,  with  no  one  near 
To  whom  he  might  confess  the  things  he  saw. 

"  So  the  foundations  of  his  mind  were  laid, 
In  such  communion,  not  from  terror  free, 
While  yet  a  child,   and  long  before  his  time, 
Had  he  perceived  the  presence  and  the  power 
Of  greatness;  and  deep  feelings  had  impressed 
So  vividly  great  objects  that  they   lay 
Upon  his  mind  like  substances,  whose  presence 
Perplexed   the  bodily  sense.     He  had   received 
A  precious  gift;  for,  as  he  grew  in  years, 
With  these  impressions  would  he  still  compare 
All  his  remembrances,  thoughts,  shapes,  and  forms; 
And,  being  still  unsatisfied   with   aught 
Of  dimmer  character,  he  thence  attained 
An  active  power  to  fasten  images 
Upon  his  brain;   and  on  their  pictured  lines 
Intensely  brooded,   even  till  they  acquired 
The   liveliness  of   dreams.     Nor   did   he   fail, 
While  yet  a  child,  with  a  child's  eagerness 
Incessantly  to  turn  his  ear  and  eye 
On  all  things  which  the  moving  seasons  brought 
To  feed  such  appetite  —  nor  this  alone 
Appeased  his  yearning:  —  in  the  after-day 
Of  boyhood,  many  an  hour  in  caves  forlorn, 
And  'mid  the  hollow  depths  of  naked  crags 
He  sate,  and  even  in  their  fixed  lineaments, 


270         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Or  from  the  power  of  a  peculiar  eye, 
Or  by  creative  feeling   overborne, 
Or  by  predominance  of  thought  oppressed, 
Even  in  their  fixed  and  steady  lineaments 
He  traced  an  ebbing  and  a  flowing  mind, 
Expression  every  varying."  11 

But,  it  is  in  the  description  of  the  Wanderer's  youth  that 
we  find,  as  was  the  case  in  The  Prelude,  Wordsworth's 
mysticism  becoming  more  pronounced.  Here,  too,  it  is 
associated  with  Nature  and  solitude.  Here,  also,  his  ex- 
perience, although  involved  in  and  stimulated  by  sense,  is 
primarily  more  subjective,  arising  largely  from  inner  spiritual 
depths.  His  animal  being  seems  to  be  submerged  into  his 
spiritual  being.  Thought  is  lost  in  feeling.  Here  is  a 
visitation  from  God,  and  there  is  a  rapturous  communion 
that  transcends  even  prayer  and  praise.  In  short,  the  youth's 
experience,  as  described  by  Wordsworth,  bears  all  the  es- 
sential marks  of  mystical  consciousness,  as  the  following 
words  reveal: 

"  Such  was  the  Boy  —  but  for  the  growing  Youth 
What  soul  was  his,  when,  from  the  naked  top 
Of  some  bold  headland,  he  beheld  the  sun 
Rise  up,  and  bathe  the  world  in  light!     He  looked  — 
Ocean  and  earth,  the  solid  frame  of  earth 
And  ocean's  liquid  mass,  in  gladness  lay 
Beneath  him: —  Far  and  wide  the  clouds  were  touched, 
And  in  their  silent  faces  could  he  read 
Unutterable  love.     Sound  needed  none, 
Nor  any  voice  of  joy;  his  spirit  drank 
The  spectacle:  sensation,  soul,  and  form, 
All  melted   into  him;   they  swallowed  up 
His  animal  being;   in  them  did  he  live, 
And  by  them  did  he  live;  they  were  his  life. 
In  such  access  of  mind,  in  such  high  hour 
Of  visitation  from  the  living  God, 
Thought  was  not;  in  enjoyment  it  expired. 

11  The  Excursion,  Bk.  I,  11.  1 18-162. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      271 

No  thanks  he  breathed,  he  proffered  no  request; 
Rapt  into  still  communion  that  transcends 
The  imperfect  offices  of  prayer  and  praise, 
His  mind  was  a  thanksgiving  to  the  power 
That  made  him;  it  was  blessedness  and  love!"12 

It  is  Nature  that  thus  affects  the  mind  of  the  youth.  Often, 
when  alone  with  her,  when  "  communing  with  the  glorious 
universe,"  his  experience  is  so  ecstatic  that  he  is  as  one 
possessed.  Indeed !  according  to  the  poet's  account,  he  is 
possessed.  In  this  state  the  great  realities  are  objects  of 
emotional  intuition  and  vision.  He  feels  his  faith  in  im- 
mortality.    He  sees  spiritual  prospects : 

"  A  Herdsman  on  the  lonely  mountain  tops, 
Such  intercourse  was  his,  and  in  this  sort 
Was  his  existence  oftentimes  possessed. 
O  then  how  beautiful,  how  bright,  appeared 
The  written  promise!     Early  had  he  learned 
To  reverence  the  volume  that  displays 
The  mystery,  the  life  which  cannot  die; 
But  in  the  mountains  did  he  feel  his  faith. 
All  things,  responsive  to  the  writing,  there 
Breathed   immortality,    revolving   life, 
And   greatness   still   revolving;   infinite: 
There  littleness  was  not;   the  least  of  things 
Seemed  infinite;  and  there  his  spirit  shaped 
Her  prospects,  nor  did  he  believe, —  he  saw."13 

These  accounts  of  the  mystical  experiences  of  Words- 
worth's boyhood  and  youth  in  The  Prelude  and  The  Ex- 
cursion are  supplemented  by  conversations  of  the  poet  re- 
corded in  several  letters  written  by  his  friends.  In  a  letter 
from  Rev.  Robert  Perceval  Graves,  of  Windermere,  we  find 
a  description  by  Wordsworth  of  the  trance  to  which  he  was 
subject  in  boyhood.  According  to  it,  the  world  with  which 
consciousness  was  concerned  was  not  an  extra-mental,  but  an 

12  The  Excursion,  Bk.  I,  11.  197-219. 

13  The  Excursion,  Bk.  II,  11.  219-232. 


272         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

intra-mental  one;  not  a  world  of  corporeal  objects,  but  of 
the  mind's  own  creation, —  the  mind  acting  apparently  in- 
dependent of  an  external  stimulus.  "  I  remember,"  writes 
Mr.  Graves,  "  Mr.  Wordsworth  saying,  that  at  a  particular 
stage  of  his  mental  progress,  he  used  to  be  frequently  so 
rapt  into  an  unreal  transcendental  world  of  ideas  that  the 
external  world  seemed  no  longer  to  exist  in  relation  to  him, 
and  he  had  to  reconvince  himself  of  its  existence  by  clasping 
a  tree,  or  something  that  happened  to  be  near  him.  I  could 
not  help  connecting  this  fact  with  that  obscure  passage  in 
his  great  Ode  on  the  Intimations  of  Immortality ,  in  which  he 
speaks  of 

"  Those  obstinate  questionings 

Of  sense  and  outward  things; 

Fallings  from  us,  vanishings ;  etc."14 

To  the  same  effect  are  the  words  found  in  a  letter  by  Pro- 
fessor Bonamy  Price:  "  It  happened  one  day  that  the  poet, 
my  wife,  and  I  were  taking  a  walk  together  by  the  side  of 
Rydal  Water.  We  were  then  by  the  sycamores  under  Nab 
Scar.  The  aged  poet  was  in  a  most  genial  mood,  and  it 
suddenly  occurred  to  me  that  I  might,  without  unwarrant- 
able presumption,  seize  the  golden  opportunity  thus  offered, 
and  ask  him  to  explain  these  mysterious  words.  So  I  ad- 
dressed him  with  an  apology,  and  begged  him  to  explain, 
what  my  own  feeble  mother-wit  was  unable  to  unravel,  and 
for  which  I  had  in  vain  sought  the  assistance  of  others,  what 
were  those  '  fallings  from  us,  vanishings,'  for  which,  above 
all  other  things,  he  gave  God  thanks.  The  venerable  old 
man  raised  his  aged  form  erect;  he  was  walking  in  the 
middle,  and  passed  across  me  to  a  five-barred  gate  in  the  wall 
which  bounded  the  road  on  the  side  of  the  lake.  He 
clenched  the  top  bar  firmly  with  his  right  hand,  pushed 
strongly  against  it,  and  then  uttered  these  ever-memorable 

14  Poems,  edited  by  William  Knight,  London,.  1896,  VIII,  p.  201. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      273 

words :  '  There  was  a  time  in  my  life  when  I  had  to  push 
against  something  that  resisted,  to  be  sure  that  there  was 
anything  outside  of  me.  I  was  sure  of  my  own  mind ;  every- 
thing else  fell  away,  and  vanished  into  thought.'  Thought, 
he  was  sure  of ;  matter  for  him,  at  the  moment,  was  an  un- 
reality —  nothing  but  a  thought."  15  Again  we  have  the 
world  of  sense-experience  cancelled,  and  a  transcendental  or 
supra-sensible  world  constitutes  the  object  of  consciousness. 
In  his  eighteenth  year,  Wordsworth  entered  St.  John's  Col- 
lege, Cambridge.  Here,  as  in  boyhood  and  early  youth,  his 
mysticism  is  evident.     He  feels 

"  Incumbencies  more  awful,  visitings 
Of  the   Upholder  of   the   tranquil   soul." 16 

Now  he  invests  "  every  natural  form,"  even  the  stones  of 
the  highway,  with  a  moral  life.  For  him  they  are  spiritual 
beings,  and  he  sees  them  feel.  For  him  the  whole  world 
of  material  things  is  imbedded  "  in  a  quickening  soul."  All 
things  respire  with  "  inward  meaning."  It  is  a  world  of  his 
own  creation:  it  exists  only  for  him  and  for  God,  who  sees 
into  the  human  heart: 

"  Here  to  record  that  I  was  mounting  now 

To  such  community  with  highest  truth  — 

A  track  pursuing,  not  untrod  before, 

From  strict  analogies  by  thought  supplied 

Or  consciousnesses  not  to  be  subdued. 

To  every  natural  form,  rock,  fruit  or  flower, 

Even  the  loose  stones  that  cover  the  high-way, 

I  gave  a  moral  life:     I  saw  them  feel, 

Or  linked  them  to  some  feeling:  the  great  mass 

Lay  bedded  in  a  quickening  soul,  and  all 

That  I  beheld  respired  with  inward  meaning."  17 

15  Poems,   edited   by   William   Knight,   London,    1896,   VIII,   pp. 
20 i -202. 

16  The  Prelude,  Bk.  Ill,  11.  119-120. 
!7  The  Prelude,  Bk.  Ill,  11.  125-135. 


274  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Wordsworth,  at  times,  betrayed  his  feelings,  inner  visions, 
and  intuitions  by  gestures  and  looks  which  some  interpreted 
as  a  kind  of  "  madness  " ;  and  madness  it  was,  says  the  poet, 
if  "  moods  of  thoughtfulness  matured  to  inspiration,"  or 
prophetic  and  poetic  vision,  may  be  regarded  as  madness. 
However,  with  him  it  was  mystical  insight,  similar  in  char- 
acter to  the  inspiration  and  vision  of  the  Hebrew  prophets. 
We  next  meet  with  an  experience  in  which  Wordsworth's 
soul  is  unveiled,  and  seems  to  be  in  the  very  presence  of 
God;  to  have  "glimmering  views"  of  immortality,  and  to 
become  conscious  of  the  dignity  and  worth  of  moral  en- 
deavor. It  occurs  during  the  summer  vacation  after  his  first 
year  at  Cambridge,  while  the  poet  is  making  the  circuit  of 
the  lake  at  Hawkshead.     His  account  of  it  is  as  follows: 

"  Gently  did  my  soul 
Put  off  her  veil,  and,  self-transmuted,  stood 
Naked,  as  in  the  presence  of  her  God. 
While  on  I  walked,  a  comfort  seemed  to  touch 
A  heart  that  had  not  been   disconsolate: 
Strength  came  where  weakness  was  not  known  to  be, 
At  least  not  felt;  and  restoration  came 
Like  an  intruder  knocking  at  the  door 
Of  unacknowledged  weariness.     I  took 
The  balance,  and  with  firm  hand  weighed  myself. 
—  Of  that  external  scene  which  round  me  lay, 
Little,   in   this   abstraction,   did   I   see; 
Remembered  less;  but  I  had  inward  hopes 
And  swellings  of  the  spirit,  was  rapt  and  soothed, 
Conversed  with  promises,  had  glimmering  views 
How  life  pervades  the  undecaying  mind; 
How  the  immortal  soul  with  God-like  power 
Informs,  creates,  and  thaws  the  deepest  sleep 
That  time  can  lay  upon  her;  how  on  earth, 
Man,  if  he  do  but  live  within  the  light 
Of  high  endeavours,  daily  spreads  abroad 
His  being  armed  with  strength  that  cannot  fail."  18 

This  is  an  experience  of  mystical  intuition  and  vision,  of 
M  The  Prelude,  Bk.  IV,  11.  isb-171. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH       275 

spiritual  illumination.  The  noetic  element  is  conspicuous. 
God,  immortality,  and  the  dignity  and  value  of  moral  effort 
are  the  great  realities  revealed. 

This  summer  vacation  records  another  experience  unique 
even  among  the  many  unique  experiences  of  his  youth  and 
young  manhood.  It  involves  a  "  call  "  to  the  poet's  office 
or  vocation  —  a  spiritual  dedication  to  a  particular  life-work. 
However,  it  is  not  a  case  of  self-dedication.  He  is  conscious 
of  relationship  to  a  higher  Power  —  the  Spirit  of  Nature  — 
who  makes  vows  for  him.  To  fail  to  perform  them  would 
be  to  "  sin  greatly."  This  dedication  occurred  one  morning 
on  his  return  from  a  dance.  The  beauty  of  the  dawn  was 
responsible  for  the  mystic  mood. 

"  Magnificent 
The  morning  rose,  in  memorable  pomp, 
Glorious  as  e'er  I  had  beheld  —  in  front, 
The  sea  lay  laughing  at  a  distance;  near 
The  solid  mountains  shone,  bright  as  the  clouds, 
Grain-tinctured,  drenched  in  empyrean  light; 
And  in  the  meadows  and  the  lower  grounds 
Was  all  the  sweetness  of  a  common  dawn  — 
Dews,   vapors,    and   the  melody  of   birds, 
And  labourers  going  forth  to  till  the  fields. 
Ah,  need  I  say,  dear  Friend!  that  to  the  brim 
My  heart  was  full ;  I  made  no  vows,  but  vows 
Were  then  made  for  me;  bond  unknown  to  me 
Was  given,  that  I  should  be,  else  sinning  greatly, 
A  dedicated  Spirit.     On  I  walked 
In  thankful  blessedness,  which  yet  survives!"19 

After  his  graduation  from  college,  Wordsworth  made  a 
visit  to  London.  Even  here,  in  the  midst  of  the  din  and  tur- 
moil of  the  large  city,  he  feels  himself  in  touch  with  the 
Spirit  of  Nature,  who  is  gradually  leading  him  to  a  love  of 
Man.  Although  there  is  no  trance  experience  evident  here, 
there  can  be  little  doubt  that,  in  his  apprehension  of  the  city 

19  The  Prelude,  Bk.  IV,  11.  323-338. 


276  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

and  its  varied  life,  Wordsworth's  mind  was  affected  by  his 
mystical  consciousness.  It  will  be  remembered  how,  in 
earlier  years,  his  soul  observed  affinities  in  things  "  where  no 
brotherhood  exists  to  passive  minds  " ;  how  he  was  able  to 
intuit  the  harmony  and  unity  of  Reality  —  feeling  the  senti- 
ment of  "  Being  spread  o'er  all  things."  A  similar  power 
is  his  in  the  city.  Here,  the  diversity  of  objects  which  he 
beholds  is  not  "  blank  confusion  "  for  him,  as  it  is  for  many 
for  whom  things  are 

"  melted  and  reduced 
To  one  identity,  by  differences 
That  have  no  law,  no  meaning,   and  no  end." 20 

"  The  Spirit  of  Nature  is  upon  him,  and 

1  The  Soul  of  Beauty  and  enduring  Life 
Vouchsafe  her  inspiration,  and  diffused, 
Through  meager  lines  and  colours,  and  the  press 
Of   self-destroying,   transitory  things, 
Composure,   and   ennobling  Harmony."  21 

Here  he  sees  men,  multitudes  of  them,  under  divers  condi- 
tions and  in  divers  states  —  a  vast,  heterogeneous,  motley, 
and  often  repulsive  throng;  but  his  mystical  mind  looks 
beyond  all  individual  peculiarities,  all  personal  conditions,  all 
differentiating  physical  and  moral  shapes,  and  sees  the  es- 
sential, the  universal  in  Man  —  the  tie  that  binds  all  human 
beings  into  one  great  system  or  brotherhood.  The  synthetic 
vision  is  his  once  more,  and  he  beholds 

'  the  unity  of  man, 
One  spirit  over  ignorance  .and  vice 
Predominant,   in  good  and  evil  hearts; 
One  sense  for  moral  judgments,  as  one  eye 
For  the  sun's  light.'  "  22 

20  The  Prelude,  Bk.  VII,  11.  726-728. 

21  The  Prelude,  Bk.  VII,  11.  767-771. 

22  Sneath,    Wordsworth,   Boston,    1912,   pp.  49-50.     The   Prelude, 
Bk.  VIII,  11.  668-672. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      277 

Thus  from  early  childhood,  through  youth  and  young  man- 
hood, Wordsworth  was  subject  to  mystical  experiences  that 
transfigured  the  face  of  Nature,  and  to  mystical  moods  that 
varied  from  mild  abstraction,  yielding  flashes  and  gleams  of 
insight  into  the  heart  of  Nature  and  Man,  to  profound  il- 
luminating trances  in  which  his  soul  was  enabled  to  per- 
ceive the  spiritual  nature  and  unity  of  all  reality,  to  stand  in 
the  presence  of  God,  and  to  gain  a  vision  of  the  soul's  im- 
mortality and  the  dignity  of  duty.  It  was  thus  that  "  the 
vision  and  the  faculty  divine  "  were  developed  in  him.  It 
was  thus  that  he  came  "to  see  into  the  life  of  things"  and 
men. 

We  now  come  to  an  interesting  and  pathetic  experience 
in  the  life  of  the  poet  —  one  that  involves  a  temporary  loss 
of  his  mystical  power.  His  account  of  this  spiritual  crisis 
is  contained  in  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  books  of  The  Pre- 
lude. It  is  a  record  of  unsouling  or  despiritualizing  the 
world  of  things  and  men.  This  was  largely  due  to  his  great 
interest  in  the  French  Revolution,  and  to  the  more  abstract 
study  of  man  under  the  influence  of  the  rationalistic  spirit 
of  the  age.  Very  early  Wordsworth  espoused  the  cause  of 
the  revolutionary  movement.  With  ardent  soul  he  cherished 
high  hopes  for  humanity.  He  had  naive  confidence  in  the 
power  of  "  right  reason."  But  the  excesses  of  the  Revolu- 
tion, and  England's  attitude  early  in  the  crisis,  filled  his  soul 
with  much  bitterness  and  disappointment.  In  his  extremity 
he  took  refuge  from  men  in  an  abstract  study  of  man  —  a 
study  of  man  in  his  essential  nature, —  endowed  with  lordly 
powers  of  reason  and  will, —  who  eventually  would  throw 
off  the  tyranny  of  custom  and  law.  He  subjected  both  man 
and  Nature  to  the  analytical  scrutiny  of  the  logical  intellect, 
with  the  result  that  he  soon  lost  not  only  his  faith  in  moral 
reason,  but  also  his  consciousness  of  a  Spiritual  Presence  in 
Nature.  His  mystical  soul  no  longer  functioned.  He  was 
in  the  grip  of  a  "  moral  disease."     He  was  in  the  darkness 


278         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

of  the  skeptic's  night.  There  is  a  similarity  here  to  the 
peculiar  experience  of  such  religious  mystics  as  Henry  Suso, 
St.  Theresa,  St.  John  of  the  Cross,  and  Madame  Guyon, 
which  experience  is  known  as  "  the  dark  night  of  the  soul." 
With  the  religious  mystics  this  is  a  period  of  desolation  and 
torment.  To  them  it  is  one  of  the  stages  in  the  "  mystic 
way,'"  leading  to  a  higher  and  richer  mystical  experience. 

From  this  "malady "  Wordsworth  gradually  recovered 
under  the  tender  ministry  of  his  sister,  and  the  healing  power 
of  Nature.  With  his  recovery  there  came  a  rebirth  of  the 
mystical  vision  and  intuition.  Through  the  influence  of 
Dorothy  Wordsworth  he  was  made  at  this  time  to  seek 
beneath  the  poet's  name  his  "  office  upon  earth,"  and  the 
dozen  years  immediately  following  are  pronounced  by  com- 
petent critics  to  be  the  period  in  which  he  produced  his  best 
poetry  —  the  dominant  characteristic  of  which  is  mystical  in- 
sight. 

The  Lyrical  Ballads  represent  the  first  fruits  of  Words- 
worth's mental  and  spiritual  restoration.  Among  these 
ballads  we  find  poetry  relating  to  both  Nature  and  Man. 
In  the  former,  the  "  mystic  gleam  "  is  most  evident.  Here 
Nature  is  instinct  with  life  and  mind.  She  pulsates  with 
happiness  and  love.  Out  of  her  abundant  resources  she 
ministers  to  Man's  mind  and  heart.  She  gives  of  her  wealth 
to  those  who  commune  with  her ;  who  indulge  in  "  a  wise  pas- 
siveness  " ;  who  come  forth  into  the  light  of  things  with  a 
heart  "  that  watches  and  receives  ";  who  observe  "  the  hour 
of  feeling,"  in  which 

"  One   moment    may    give   us    more 
Than  years  of  toiling  reason."  23 

In  such  poems  as  "  Lines  Written  in  Early  Spring,"  '  To 
My  Sister,"  "  Expostulation  and  Reply,"  and  "  The  Tables 
Turned,"  we  note  this  mystical  approach  of  Wordsworth  to 
Nature.     Here  we  have  the  poet,  as  in  boyhood  and  youth, 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH       279 

in  close  touch  with  Nature's  spirit,  communing  with  her  and 
seeing  deep  "  into  the  life  of  things."  Coleridge  once  re- 
marked to  Hazlitt,  before  the  poetry  of  the  Lyrical  Bal- 
lads appeared  in  print,  that  "  it  had  a  grand  and  compre- 
hensive spirit  in  it,  so  that  his  soul  seemed  to  inhabit  the 
universe  like  a  palace,  and  to  discover  truth  by  intuition 
rather  than  by  deduction."  23  Intuition  it  unquestionably 
was  —  born  largely  of  mystical  feeling. 

Among  the  poems  of  the  Lyrical  Ballads,  is  one  entitled, 
"  Lines,  composed  a  few  miles  above  Tintern  Abbey."  In 
this  poem  we  have  once  more  a  description  of  his  mystical 
trance.  In  it  the  poet  deals  with  both  its  psychological  and 
physiological  aspects.  It  is  a  "  serene  and  blessed  mood  "  in 
which  the  soul's  burden  of  the  "  unintelligible  world  is  light- 
ened " ;  a  mood  in  which  breathing  and  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  almost  cease.  The  bodily  powers  are  "  laid  asleep," 
but  the  soul  is  awake.  The  eye  of  sense  is  quieted,  its  func- 
tion being  inhibited  by  the  power  of  harmony  and  joy, —  but 
the  inner  eye  is  active,  and  gains  insight  into  Nature's  life. 

"  Not  less,  I  trust, 
To  them  I  may  have  owed  another  gift, 
Of  aspect  more  sublime;  that  blessed  mood, 
In  which  the  burthen  of  the  mystery, 
In  which  the  heavy  and  the  weary  weight 
Of  all  this  unintelligible  world, 
Is  lightened:  —  that  serene  and  blessed  mood, 
In  which  the  affections  gently  lead  us  on, — 
Until,  the  breath  of  this  corporeal  frame 
And  even  the  motion  of  our  human  blood 
Almost  suspended,  we  are  laid  asleep 
In  body,  and  become  a  living  soul; 
While  with  an  eye  made  quiet  by  the  power 
Of  harmony,  and  the  deep  power  of  joy, 
We  see  into  the  life  of  things."  24 

23  The  Liberal,  II,  371. 

24  Lines,  composed  a  few  miles  above  Tintern  Abbey,  11.  35-4-8. 


28o         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Later  in  the  poem,  in  memorable  lines,  he  acknowledges 
having  felt  a  Presence  in  things  and  men.  He  has  experi- 
enced "  a  sense  sublime  "  of  "  a  motion  and  a  spirit  "  that 
is  operative  in  all  things  and  in  the  human  mind.  The  ex- 
perience is  due  to  Nature,  and  because  of  it  he  recognizes  in 
her  the  guide  and  guardian  of  his  heart,  the  very  soul  of  his 
moral  being. 

"  And  I  have  felt 
A  presence  that  disturbs  me  with  the  joy 
Of  elevated  thoughts;  a  sense  sublime 
Of  something  far  more  deeply  interfused, 
Whose  dwelling  is  the   light  of  setting  suns, 
And  the  round  ocean  and  the  living  air, 
And  the  blue  sky,  and  in  the  mind  of  man: 
A  motion   and   a  spirit,  that  impels 
All  thinking  things,  all  objects  of  all  thought, 
And  rolls  through  all  things.     Therefore  am  I  still 
A  lover  of  the  meadows  and  the  woods, 
And  mountains;  and  of  all  that  we  behold 
From  this  green  earth;  of  all  the  mighty  world 
Of  eye  and  ear, —  both  what  they  half  create, 
And  what  perceive;  well  pleased  to  recognise 
In  nature  and  the  language  of  the  sense, 
The  anchor  of  my  purest  thoughts,  the  nurse, 
The  guide,  the  guardian  of  my  heart,  and  soul 
Of  all  my  moral  being."  25 

This  is  mysticism  —  a  mood  in  which  there  is  immediate 
experience  of,  or  contact  with,  a  Higher  Spiritual  Power, 
and  a  recognition  of  the  essential  unity  of  all  things.  So 
intimate  is  the  relation  between  the  Universal  Presence 
and  things  and  minds,  that  he  barely  escapes  resolving  the  last 
two  realities  into  the  first.  Indeed,  there  have  been  those, 
like  Bishop  Wordsworth,  his  kinsman-biographer,  who  have 
interpreted  this  poem  pantheistically.  However,  this  is  a 
misinterpretation.  Pantheism  identifies  finite  things  and 
minds   with   the   Absolute   or   "  the  All."     It   makes  them 

25  Lines,  composed  a  few  miles  above  Tintern  Abbey,  11.  93-111. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH       281 

merely  modes  of  its  energizing.  But  Wordsworth  does  not 
do  this.  He  merely  says  that  the  Presence  is  in  things  and  in 
minds,  that  "  the  light  of  setting  suns,"  "  the  round  ocean," 
"  the  living  air,"  "  the  blue  sky,"  and  "  the  mind  of  man  " 
are  its  dwelling;  that  it  is  a  motion  and  a  spirit  which  is 
not  identical  with  "  all  thinking  things  "  and  "  objects  of  all 
thought,"  but  which  impels  them ;  and  not  that  it  is  all  things, 
but  that  it  "  rolls  through  all  things."  In  other  words,  he 
preserves  the  individuality  of  the  Universal  Presence,  the 
individuality  of  things,  and  the  individuality  of  the  finite 
spirit,  while  at  the  same  time  he  intuitively  recognizes  that 
spirit  rather  than  matter  is  the  great  reality ;  and  that  Man, 
Nature,  and  the  Spirit  of  Nature  are  all  involved  in  an  in- 
timate spiritual  relationship.  He  apprehends  that  in  a  true 
sense  things  and  minds  live  and  move  and  have  their  being 
in  a  Higher  Spiritual  Power  and  yet  are  distinct  from  it. 
The  Higher  Power  is,  indeed,  immanent,  but  it  is  also 
transcendent.  It  is  not  Pantheism,  but  Theistic  Idealism 
that  is  taught  in  this  great  poem. 

The  Grasmere  period  of  the  poet's  life  is  especially  rich 
in  communion  with  Nature,  and  his  spiritual  interpretation 
of  the  physical  world  is  very  evident.  More  than  a  score  of 
poems  testify  to  this.  Those,  however,  in  which  we  are 
specially  interested  are:  "It  was  an  April  morning;  fresh 
and  clear,"  "  To  Joanna,"  "  The  Cuckoo,"  and  "  Yes,  it  was 
the  mountain  Echo."  In  these  poems  the  impressions  of 
sense  seem  to  sink  deep  into  the  spirit,  where,  affected  by 
mystical  feeling,  by  some  strange  psychological  chemistry, 
they  are  transformed  into  a  new  mental  product.  In  this 
work  of  transformation,  a  synthetic  or  unifying  power  is 
manifest.  Many  sounds  and  sights  are  fused  into  one.  In 
the  poem  entitled  "  It  was  an  April  morning  "  the  various 
sounds  of  Nature  lose  their  identity  and  become  "  the  voice 
of  common  pleasure," — M  some  natural  produce  of  the  air." 
In  the  poem,  "  To  Joanna,"  the  laugh  of  the  maiden,  under 


282  AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

the  spell  of  Wordsworth's  mood,  fills  the  mountains.  His 
ear  is  touched  "  with  dreams  and  visionary  impulses."  In 
the  poem,  "  To  the  Cuckoo,"  the  cuckoo's  voice  is  univer- 
salized, and,  under  the  influence  of  the  notes  of  the  "  blessed 
bird,"  the  earth  is  unsubstantialized,  it  is  supplanted  by  that 
ideal  world  constructed  from  materials  of  the  inner  self. 
The  cuckoo  not  only  brings  to  him  "  a  tale  of  visionary 
hours" — the  mystical  hours  of  childhood  already  described; 
but  now,  even  in  young  manhood,  under  the  magic  influence 
of  its  "  wandering  Voice," 

"  the  earth  we  pace 
Again  appears  to  be 
An    unsubstantial,    faery    place." 

In  "  Yes,  it  was  the  mountain  Echo,"  the  echo  or  series  of 
echoes  of  the  cuckoo's  notes  impel  the  poet  to  speak  of  echoes 
from  beyond  the  grave,  heard  by  the  inner  ear, —  intima- 
tions of  immortality  given  of  God  to  the  spiritual  self:  — 

"Hears  not  also  mortal  Life? 
Hear  not  we,  unthinking  Creatures! 
Slaves  of  folly,  love,  or  strife  — 
Voices  of  two  different  natures? 

Have  not  we  too?  —  yes,  we  have 
Answers,  and  we  know  not  whence; 
Echoes  from  beyond  the  grave, 
Recognized   intelligence! 

Such  rebounds  our  inward  ear 
Catches    sometimes   from    afar  — 
Listen,  ponder,  hold  them  dear; 
For  of  God,— of  God  they  are."26 

WTiose  consciousness,  but  that  of  a  mystic,  under  the  in- 
fluence of  Nature,  on  the  occasion  of  ordinary  sense-impres- 
sions, could  give  rise  to  such  spiritual  auditions,  such  tran- 

26  Yes,  it  was  the  mountain  Echo,  11.  9-20. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH       283 

scendental  apprehensions?  They  are  the  mystic's  immediate 
consciousness  of  God  and  immortality. 

Finally,  in  studying  the  mysticism  of  Wordsworth  we  are 
brought  to  the  consideration  of  his  superb  creation, — "  Ode, 
Intimations  of  Immorality,"  of  which  Emerson  said,  "  It  is 
the  high-water  mark  which  the  intellect  has  reached  in  this 
age";27  and  of  which,  with  "Lines,  composed  a  few  miles 
above  Tintern  Abbey,"  Professor  Saintsbury  remarked,  that 
not  only  do  we  reach  "  the  summits  of  Wordsworth's  poetry," 
but  that  these  two  poems  are  "  poems  of  such  astonishing  mag- 
nificence that  it  is  only  more  astonishing  that  any  one  should 
have  read  them  and  failed  to  see  what  a  poet  had  come  be- 
fore the  world."  28  This  great  ode  is  autobiographical  in 
character,  and  is  based  on  the  poet's  mystic  gleams  and  trance 
experiences  of  childhood.  In  a  Fenwick  note,  he  says: 
"  There  may  be  no  harm  in  adverting  here  to  particular  feel- 
ings or  experiences  of  my  own  mind  on  which  the  structure 
of  the  poem  partly  rests.  Nothing  was  more  difficult  for  me 
in  childhood  than  to  admit  the  notion  of  death  as  a  state 
applicable  to  my  own  being.     I  have  said  elsewhere  — 

A  simple  child, 
That  lightly  draws  its  breath, 
And  feels  its  life   in   every  limb 
What  should  it  know  of  death !  — 

But  it  was  not  so  much  from  feelings  of  animal  vivacity  that 
my  difficulty  came  as  from  a  sense  of  the  indomitableness  of 
the  Spirit  within  me.  I  used  to  brood  over  the  stories  of 
Enoch  and  Elijah,  and  almost  to  persuade  myself  that,  what- 
ever might  become  of  others,  I  should  be  translated,  in 
something  of  the  same  way,  to  heaven.  With  a  feeling  con- 
genital to  this,  I  was  often  unable  to  think  of  external  things 

27  Emerson,  English   Traits,  Boston,   1883,  p.  282. 

28  Saintsbury,  A  History  of  Nineteenth  Century  Literature,  New 
York  and  London,  1896,  p.  54. 


284         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

as  having  external  existence,  and  I  communed  with  all  that  I 
saw  as  something  not  apart  from,  but  inherent  in,  my  own 
immaterial  nature.  Many  times  while  going  to  school  have  I 
grasped  at  a  wall  or  tree  to  recall  myself  from  this  abyss  of 
idealism  to  the  reality.  At  that  time  I  was  afraid  of  such 
processes.  In  later  periods  of  life  I  have  deplored,  as  we 
have  all  reason  to  do,  a  subjugation  of  an  opposite  character, 
and  have  rejoiced  over  the  remembrances,  as  is  expressed  in 

the  lines  — 

Obstinate  questionings 
Of  sense  and  outward  things, 
Fallings  from  us,  vanishings,  etc."  29 

We  have  already  quoted  Wordsworth's  remarks  contained  in 
the  letters  of  Rev.  Mr.  Graves  and  Professor  Price,  to  the 
same  effect.  This  poem  is  really  a  poem  on  child  psychology, 
based  on  Wordsworth's  experience  as  a  child,  together  with 
certain  inferences  founded  on  it,  although  such  experience 
was  believed  by  him  to  be  common  to  all  men.  According 
to  Wordsworth,  to  the  perception  of  the  child  the  world  of 
physical  things  is  invested  with  a  celestial  glory  and  splendor 
that  is  not  present  to  the  consciousness  of  the  adult.  With 
the  adult  it  is  a  case  of  lost  vision.  With  him  "  the  vision 
splendid  "  gradually  fades  into  the  light  of  common  day. 

"There  was  a  time  when  meadow,  grove  and  stream, 
The  earth,  and  every  common  sight, 
To  me  did  seem 
Apparelled  in  celestial  light, 
The  glory  and  the  freshness  of  a  dream. 
It  is  not  now  as  it  hath  been  of  yore;  — 
Turn  wheresoe'er  I  may, 
By  night  or  day, 
The  things  which  I  have  seen  I  now  can  see  no  more. 

"  The  Rainbow  comes  and   goes, 
And  lovely  is  the  Rose, 

2»  Poems,  edited  by  William  Knight,  Vol.  VIII,  p.  189. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      285 

The  Moon  doth  with  delight 
Look  round  her  when  the  heavens  are  bare, 

Waters  on  a  starry  night 

Are  beautiful  and  fair; 
The  sunshine  is  a  glorious  birth; 
But  yet  I  know,  where'er  I  go, 
That  there  hath  passed  away  a  glory  from  the  earth. 

"Ye  blessed  Creatures,  I  have  heard  the  call 

Ye  to  each  other  make;   I  see 
The  heavens  laugh  with  you  in  your  jubilee; 

My  heart  is  at  your  festival, 
My  head  hath  its  coronal, 
The  fullness  of  your  bliss,  I  f eel  —  I  feel  it  all. 

Oh  evil  day!  if  I  were  sullen 

While  Earth  herself  is  adorning, 
This  sweet  May-morning, 

And  the  Children  are  culling 
On  every  side, 

In  a  thousand  valleys  far  and  wide, 

Fresh  flowers;  while  the  sun  shines  warm, 
And  the  Babe  leaps  up  on  his  Mother's  arm:  — 

I  hear,  I  hear,  with  joy  I  hear! 

—  But  there's  a  tree,  of  many,  one, 
A  single  Field  which  I  have  looked  upon, 
Both  of  them  speak  of  something  that  is  gone: 

The  pansy  at  my  feet 

Doth  the   same  tale   repeat: 
Whither  is  fled  the  visionary  gleam? 
Where  is  it  now,  the  glory  and  the  dream?" 


30 


This  radiant  glory  and  splendor  peculiar  to  childhood's 
vision  of  the  world  indicates,  according  to  our  poet,  the  near- 
ness of  the  child-mind  to  a  preexistent  state.  It  is  largely 
an  inheritance  from  another  world.  Incarnation  or  birth 
means  merely  sleep  and  forgetfulness  of  former  mental  riches. 
As  the  child  advances  in  years  he  grows  farther  and  farther 
away  from  this  heaven  that  lies  about  him  in  his  infancy. 

30  Ode,  Intimations  of  Immortality,  11.  i-18,  36-57, 


286         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Youth's  path  is  still  attended  by  the  glorious  vision,  but 
manhood  "  perceives  it  die  away." 

"  Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting: 
The  Soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  Star, 

Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 
And  cometh  from  afar: 

Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 

And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 

From  God,  who  is  our  home; 
Heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy! 
Shades  of  the  prison-house  begin  to  close 

Upon  the  growing  Boy, 
But  He  upholds  the  light,  and  whence  it  flows 

He  sees  it  in  his  joy; 
The  Youth,  who  daily  farther  from  the  east 

Must  travel,   still   is   Nature's  Priest, 

And  by  the  vision  splendid 

Is  on  his  way  attended; 
At  length  the  Man  perceives  it  die  away, 
And  fade  into  the   light  of  common  day."  31 

But  the  experience  of  childhood  involves  more  than  the  per- 
ception of  a  world  "  apparelled  in  celestial  light."  As  the 
poet  notes  the  child's  desire  to  gain  earthly  experience,  he 
wonders  why  a  being  possessed  of  such  marvelous  powers 
should  be  so  eager  to  exchange  them  for  the  limitations  of 
the  man.  And  what,  according  to  Wordsworth,  are  these 
remarkable  gifts  of  the  child?  The  answer  to  this  question 
throws  further  light  on  his  psychology  of  childhood  —  a  psy- 
chology which  was  undoubtedly  born  of  his  mystical  expe- 
rience —  especially  the  trance  experiences  that  have  been 
described. 

According  to  Wordsworth,  the  child's  body  belies  the  im- 
mensity of  his  soul.  The  child  is  the  true  philosopher,  re- 
taining as  he  does  his  glorious  inheritance.  He  is  "  the  eye 
among  the  blind."     He  is  conscious  of  eternity  and  the  eternal 

31  Ode,  Intimations  of  Immortality,  11.  58-76. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      287 

mind.  As  philosopher  and  seer,  he  intuits  those  truths  that 
men  toil  a  lifetime  to  discover.  Over  him  broods  immor- 
tality. With  him  it  is  an  ever-present  fact.  He  is  con- 
scious, also,  of  preexistence. 

"Thou,  whose  exterior  semblance  doth  belie 

Thy    Soul's   immensity; 
Thou  best  Philosopher,  who  yet  dost  keep 
Thy  heritage,  thou  Eye  among  the  blind, 
That,  deaf  and  silent,  read'st  the  eternal  deep, 
Haunted  forever  by  the  eternal  mind, — 

Mighty  Prophet!     Seer  blest! 

On  whom  those  truths  do  rest, 
Which  we  are  toiling  all  our  lives  to  find, 
In  darkness  lost,  the  darkness  of  the  grave; 
Thou,  over  whom  thy  Immortality 
Broods  like  the  Day,  a  Master  o'er  a  Slave, 
A  Presence  which  is  not  to  be  put  by; 
Thou  little  Child,  yet  glorious  in  the  might 
Of  heaven-born  freedom  on  thy  being's  height, 
Why  with  such  earnest  pains  dost  thou  provoke 
The  years  to  bring  the  inevitable  yoke, 
Thus  blindly  with  thy  blessedness   at   strife? 
Full  soon  thy  Soul  shall  have  her  earthly  freight, 
And  custom  lie  upon  thee  with  a  weight, 
Heavy  as  frost,  and  deep  almost  as  life! 

"  O  joy!  that  in  our  embers 
Is  something  that  doth  live, 
That  nature  yet  remembers 
What  was  so  fugitive! 
The  thought  of  our  past  years  in  me  doth  breed 
Perpetual  benediction:  not  indeed 
For  that  which  is  most  worthy  to  be  blest; 
Delight  and  liberty,  the  simple  creed 
Of  Childhood,  whether  busy  or  at  rest, 
With   new-fledged  hope  still  fluttering  in  his  breast:  — 
Not  for  these  I  raise 
The  song  of  thanks  and  praise; 
But  for  those  obstinate  questionings 
Of  sense  and  outward  things, 
Fallings  from  us,  vanishings; 


288        AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

Blank  misgivings  of  a  Creature 
Moving  about  in  worlds  not  realised, 
High  instincts  before  which  our  mortal  Nature 
Did  tremble  like  a  guilty  Thing  surprised: 
But  for  those  first  affections, 
Those  shadowy  recollections, 
Which,  be  they  what  they  may, 
Are  yet  the  fountain  light  of  all  our  day, 
Are  yet  a  master  light  of  all  our  seeing; 

Uphold  us,  cherish,  and  have  power  to  make 
Our  noisy  years  seem  moments  in  the  being 
Of  the  eternal  Silence:  truths  that  wake, 

To  perish  never; 
Which  neither  listlessness,  nor  mad  endeavor, 

Nor  Man  nor  Boy, 
Nor  all  that  is  at  enmity  with  joy, 
Can  utterly  abolish  or  destroy! 

Hence  in  a  season  of  calm  weather, 
Though  inland  far  we  be, 
Our  Souls  have  sight  of  that  immortal  sea 
Which  brought  us  hither, 
Can  in  a  moment  travel  thither, 
And  see  the  Children  sport  upon  the  shore, 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore."  32 

This  exalted  view  of  childhood  was  characteristic  of 
Wordsworth.  He  refers  to  it  not  merely  in  this  immortal 
ode,  but  elsewhere.     In  The  Prelude  he  says: 

"  Our  childhood  sits, 
Our  simple  childhood,  sits  upon  a  throne 
That  hath  more  power  than  all  the  elements. 
I  guess  not  what  this  tells  of  Being  past, 
Nor  what  it  augurs  of  the  life  to  come " ;  33 

Again,  in  The  Excursion,  he  asks: 

"  Ah !  why  in  age 
Do  we  revert  so  fondly  to  the  walks 
Of  childhood  —  but  that  there  the  Soul  discerns 

32  Ode,  Intimations  of  Immortality,  11.  108-167. 

33  The  Prelude,  Bk.  V,  11.  507-5"- 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH       289 

The  dear  memorial  footsteps  unimpaired 
Of  her  own  native  vigour;  thence  can  hear 
Reverberations;   and  a  choral  song, 
Commingling  with  the  incense  that  ascends, 
Undaunted,  toward  the  imperishable  heavens, 
From  her  own  lonely  altar?"34 

It  has  been  suggested  that  Wordsworth  in  his  views  of 
preexistence,  the  nearness  to  which  state  accounts  for  the 
remarkable  powers  of  the  child,  is  simply  giving  an  expres- 
sion to  views  borrowed  from  Plato.  A  Fenwick  note  reveals 
the  fact  that  Wordsworth  was  acquainted  with  Plato's  teach- 
ing on  this  subject.  But  this  does  not  justify  the  statement 
that  Wordsworth's  belief  was  based  merely  on  his  acquaint- 
ance with  Plato.  The  poet's  conviction  was  undoubtedly 
rooted  in  his  trance  experience  of  boyhood.  He  confesses 
this  in  the  prefatory  note  to  the  ode  on  Immortality  already 
referred  to.  Others  have  thought  that  he  might  have  been 
influenced  by  a  seventeenth  century  poet,  Henry  Vaughan, 
whose  "  Silex  Scintallans  "  and  "  The  Retreate  "  show  him 
to  be  a  mystical  poet,  and  a  believer  in  preexistence.  Unless 
Wordsworth  became  acquainted  with  Vaughan's  works 
through  Coleridge,  there  is  no  external  evidence  to  prove  that 
he  was  familiar  with  these  poems.  There  is,  indeed,  a  sim- 
ilarity in  their  teachings.  But  such  views  are  the  common 
property  of  mystical  poets.  The  true  explanation  of  Words- 
worth's belief  is,  that  it  was  due  to  his  mystical  conscious- 
ness which  was  active  in  childhood  and  youth  and  which 
brought  him  in  contact  with  not  only  a  transfigured  sense- 
world,  but  also  with  a  world  that  transcended  the  limits  of 
space  and  time  —  an  eternal  spiritual  world  —  member- 
ship in  which  antedates  birth,  which  is  merely  the  soul's  in- 
carnation. 

We  find  thus  that  an  examination  of  Wordsworth's  poetry 
and  other  sources  of  evidence  shows  that  he  was  essentially  a 

84  The  Excursion,  Bk.  IX,  11.  36-44. 


290         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

mystic.  Professor  James  mentions  four  marks  of  mysticism, 
—  ineffability,  noetic  quality,  transiency,  and  passivity.35 
These  marks  were  characteristic  of  Wordsworth's  unique 
consciousness.  His  experiences  were  often  ineffable.  They 
were  so  wonderful  that  frequently  he  found  it  impossible  to 
adequately  express  them.  His  spiritual  visions  and  auditions, 
his  rapturous  feelings  and  intuitions,  defy  description  and  ex- 
planation. "  How,"  he  asks  of  Coleridge  in  The  Prelude, 
"  shall  I  seek  the  origin  ?  where  find  faith  in  the  marvelous 
things  which  then  I  felt?  "  What  he  saw  was  indescribable 
in  terms  of  sense;  it  seemed  like  "  a  dream,  a  prospect  in  the 
mind."  It  was  "  with  bliss  ineffable  "  that  he  "  felt  the  sen- 
timent of  Being  spread  o'er  all  things."  In  the  clouds  he 
11  read  unutterable  love."  The  noetic  quality  was  also  pres- 
ent. His  moods  and  trances  were  illuminating.  There  was 
spiritual  vision,  audition  and  intuition.  He  was  immediatelv 
conscious  of  a  transcendent  world ;  of  the  Spirit  of  Nature ; 
of  the  High  God ;  of  the  spiritual  nature  of  all  Reality;  of  the 
relations  of  the  Universal  Presence,  finite  things  and  minds  in 
a  spiritual  system;  and  of  their  ministry  to  his  soul;  also  of 
preexistence  and  immortality,  and  the  dignity  and  worth  of 
duty.  Transiency,  too,  was  a  mark  of  the  poet's  supra-sen- 
sible experiences.  Both  the  trance  and  lighter  moods  were 
comparatively  short-lived.  They  were  the  fleeting,  not  the 
permanent  forms  of  consciousness.  Passivity  constituted 
still  another  mark.  The  bodily  frame,  according  to  the 
Poet's  own  description,  was  inactive.  Its  powers  were  "  laid 
asleep."  The  mind,  too,  was  in  a  passive,  receptive  state. 
A  "  wise  passiveness  "  seemed  to  pave  the  way  for  the  ap- 
proach of  the  Spirit  of  Nature  and  its  communications  or 
revelations.  In  all  of  this,  the  "  marks  "  or  "  characters  "  of 
the  mystic's  consciousness  are  manifest. 

35  The  Varieties  of  Religious  Experience,  New  York  and  London, 
1902,  Lectures  XVI  and  XVII. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      291 

These  "  blessed  moods,"  with  their  illuminations  and  "  in- 
effable bliss,"  made  a  profound  impression  on  the  mind  of  the 
poet,  and  deeply  affected  his  life  and  work.  He  regarded 
them  with  reverence  and  gratitude,  and  they  exercised  a 
purifying  and  ennobling  influence  upon  him.  What  he  says 
in  this  respect  of  the  Wanderer  in  The  Excursion  is 
descriptive  of  himself : 

"  What  wonder  if  his  being  thus  became 
Sublime  and  comprehensive!     Low  desires, 
Low  thoughts  had  there  no  place;  yet  was  his  heart 
Lowly;  for  he  was  meek  in  gratitude, 
Oft  as  he  called  those  ecstasies  to  mind, 
And  whence  they  flowed ;  and  from  them  he  acquired 
Wisdom,  which  works  thro'  patience;  thence  he  learned 
In  oft-recurring  hours  of  sober  thought 
To  look  on  Nature  with  a  humble  heart, 
Self-questioned  where  it  did  not  understand, 
And  with  a  superstitious  eye  of  love."  36 

His  was  a  life  of  pure  desires  and  lofty  thoughts.  He  looked 
upon  these  unusual  experiences  as  visitations  from  the  Spirit 
of  Nature,  or  from  the  High  God.  He  interpreted  them  as 
ministrations  to  his  spirit;  and  regarded  himself  as  dedi- 
cated by  a  higher  Power  to  the  poet's  life,  to  be  the  high 
priest  of  Nature  and  Man,  "  speaking  no  dream,  but  things 
oracular."  For  many  years  he  practically  abjured  society, 
and  lived  in  comparative  solitude,  giving  himself  up  to  his 
art,  serving  with  clean  hands  and  pure  heart,  with  lofty  aim 
and  faithful  effort,  the  Spirit  that  had  made  vows  for  him. 
The  outcome  is  manifest  in  a  large  body  of  verse,  the  endur- 
ing portion  of  which  owes  its  existence  and  immortality  to 
the  influence  of  his  mysticism.  Matthew  Arnold  says, 
"  Wordsworth  composed  verses  during  a  space  of  sixty  years; 
and  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  within  one  single  de- 

38  The  Excursion,  Bk.  I,  11.  233-243. 


292         AT  ONE  WITH  THE  INVISIBLE 

cade  of  these  years,  between  1799  and  1808,  almost  all  of  his 
really  first-rate  work  was  produced." 37  Principal  Shaip 
and  Professor  Dowden,  although  differing  from  Arnold's 
estimate,  agree  that  the  decade  referred  to  above  represents 
"  the  springtime  of  his  genius."  During  this  period  most  of 
his  poetry  of  insight  into  Nature  was  written.  Occasional 
poems  of  Nature  appear  afterward,  but  few  of  them  reveal 
"  the  gleam."  A  majority  of  them  are  descriptive  in  char- 
acter. The  reason  for  this  is  doubtless  the  fact  that  Words- 
worth's mystical  consciousness  ceased  to  function  after  this 
period.  He  perceived  it  "  die  away,  and  fade  into  the  com- 
mon light  of  day."  With  the  loss  of  this  mystical  appre- 
hension of  Nature,  he  turned  to  other  subjects  for  poetic  in- 
spiration. One  nature  poem,  composed  in  18 18,  entitled 
"  Composed  upon  an  Evening  of  Extraordinary  Splendour 
and  Beauty,"  evinces  that  for  a  moment,  as  the  poet  re- 
marks, the  mystical  apprehension  was  "  by  miracle  restored." 
But  here,  also,  Wordsworth  is  conscious  of  the  loss  of  the 
"  vision  splendid  ": 

"  Such   hues   from   their  celestial    Urn 
Were  wont  to  stream  before  mine  eye, 
Where'er  it  wandered  in  the  morn 
Of  blissful  infancy. 
This  glimpse  of  glory,  why  renewed? 
Nay,  rather  speak  with  gratitude; 
For,  if  a  vestige  of  those  gleams 
Survived,  'twas  only  in  my  dreams. 
Dread  Power !  whom  peace  and  calmness  serve 
No  less  than  Nature's  threatening  voice, 
If  aught  unworthy  be  my  choice, 
From  Thee  if  I  would  swerve! 
Oh,  let  thy  grace  remind  me  of  the  light 
Full  early  lost,  and  fruitlessly  deplored; 
Which,  at  this  moment,  on  my  waking  sight 
Appears  to  shine,  by  miracle  restored; 

37  Essays  in  Criticism,  Second  Series,  London,  1898,  p.   136. 


THE  MYSTICISM  OF  WORDSWORTH      293 

My  soul,  though  yet  confined  to  earth, 
Rejoices  in  a  second  birth! 
— 'Tis  past,  the  visionary  splendour  fades; 
And  night  approaches  with  her  shades."  38 

With  the  loss  of  his  mystical  vision  and  intuition,  Words- 
worth was  shorn  of  much  of  his  poetic  power. 

38  Composed  upon  an  Evening  of  Extraordinary  Splendour  and 
Beauty,  11.  61-80. 


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